Rekindled
by Mike Taurguss
Summary: Hope has been imprisoned, and Xena begins a new series of adventures after the death of her second father. Little do the two of them know, their paths are destined to cross in a way that neither of them could ever expect. A tie in to the GTAS Series.
1. Prologue

A/N: NIWWT has struck again with an infamous 'what ever happened to:' question and, since this series has been my forte, they placed it upon me.

While David and Gabrielle do have a small role to play in this story, this is NOT a continuation of the Ancient Scrolls series. Rather, it ties up some loose ends nicely and serves as a jumping of point for the actual story which will begin in Chapter 1. Hold onto your hats kids, the ride is about to start!

MT.

**Forward**

He wasn't sure what had awakened him, but his eyes were open and he was staring at the ceiling with an unfounded sense of dread.

The cool, damp night breeze floated in from the outside, heavy with the promise of rain, and gentle mists roiled and floated over the earth in the yard below.

Everything seemed quiet and peaceful, and still there was this heaviness about him, as if the universe were holding its breath.

A soft moan drew his attention down to the figure lying next to him. His hand fell gently on the soft blonde hair, and he brushed the strands out of her face.

There she was, a gentle frown creasing the skin of her forehead as she slumbered, deep in some dream.

He had to remind himself that she was real. He had to remind himself that all of this was real and he was not in some fantastical dream any longer.

Angelica's hand brushed over his chest as she adjusted her position and the frown lessened a bit.

David smiled and kissed her gently on the top of the head as he extricated himself from her.

On the top of the armoire, Prospero looked up from cleaning his thick black fur and stared at him with curious cat eyes.

David put a finger to his lips and then gently rubbed the cat's head. Prospero purred and then went back to licking his paw.

He moved out into the hallway and down the stairs into the living room. The moonlight cast long pale blades of silvery light across the shrouded furniture.

To his right, near the front door were the four large suitcases, standing patiently. The customs tags from the recent flight back from Greece could be read in the pale light.

Well, they'd unpack in the morning. They had been too exhausted to do anything of the sort when they arrived in the early evening after the flight.

By now, the newly 'discovered' site of Poditea would be in full archeological swing, as would the excavation of the various tombs in the hills nearby. They had been there nearly a month as David watched the foundations and streets of his old home emerge from the earth.

The ruins of Beltanus's old in were in better shape than most of the rest, with three of the four stone walls still standing. He spent many hours there, sitting on the packed earth and seeing the old tables and stools, watching the ghosts of those he had known traveling in and out of his mind's eye.

His old college professor had been rather surprised at the precision with which David had pinpointed the site.

David smiled as his memory drifted back to that other time, that other life. The feeling of angst flared again with the thought.

He frowned. Why would he feel anything negative towards that life? There had been very little negative in it after all. In point of fact, even his departure from that life, as violent as it had been, had yielded something positive.

His eyes drifted to the steps and the bedroom above, and the sleeping Angelica, who was without a doubt, the reincarnation of his beloved Gabrielle.

Still the sensation persisted. It was the same feeling he used to get when Gabrielle was in trouble, or when Angelica was flustered or worried. The same nebulous feeling that he was sensing from his sleeping fiancée now, but different as well.

"Well," he thought. "This is a fine how do you do. My house is under psychic assault, and I can't trace the source because my wife to be is having a bad dream."

He started when he realized there was a figure standing at the top of the steps.

"Ang?" he asked quietly. "Are you alright?"

The figure seemed to fade away, like dark mist until he was looking at the empty landing again.

"What the hell?" he muttered, feeling more curiosity than fright at the intrusion. He went back up the stairs, and heard the tell tale signs of Angelica sitting up in the bed.

Looking into the bedroom, he saw her, sitting and brushing her hair out of her face.

"Hey," he smiled gently. "You alright?"

"Yeah," Angelica rubbed her green eyes and smiled. "Just a goofy dream is all."

David decided to leave the shadowy intruder out of the discussion for the time being.

"Oh?" he asked. "Not having second thoughts I hope?"

Angelica smiled and shook her head. "No. Nothing like that. Just a really weird dream."

David sat back on the bed. "Wanna talk about it?"

She shrugged. "Just weird, you know? I was stuck in a cell of some kind. But it wasn't me at the same time."

"Jet lag?" David grinned.

Her smile widened a bit. "I don't think so. Probably just the combination of everything I learned in Greece along with it. It was a lot to take in."

"Well," David shrugged. "You wanted to know how I knew so much about you. I did warn you that it would be a bit like an episode of the Twilight Zone."

"I'll never underestimate you again, that's for sure," Angelica shook her head. "When I saw that computer recreation of my face - I still get chills when I think about it."

Her smile grew. "Still," she continued. "I think it's kind of romantic how you went back for her – or should I say for me? I've tried to write it all out, but it's just too wild for me to make any sense of it."

David shrugged. "What can I say? I'm stubborn."

"Well," Angelica sighed. "At least I know why you kept most of the story from me before we went there. You're right. I would have thought you were crazy."

"But now you don't?" David asked.

"Oh, I didn't say that," she replied. "But now I know it's not the dangerous sort of crazy."

"We'll see," David grinned. "I dictated as much of my life then onto tape and sealed them in a box for Professor McGhee. He has them and he won't open the tapes until they find what's left of me in the back of that place."

"Is that why you wanted to leave when we did?" she asked him, her face sobering slightly.

David shrugged. "You didn't have a problem with seeing your own bones."

"I didn't believe it at the time, hon." Angelica smiled. "A part of me still doesn't."

"The thing that's bugging the shit out of me is the paradox of the whole thing," David said. "According to the doc, I was only out for about four days, yet the evidence says I was there for most of my life? How does that work?"

Angelica smiled. "Well, if you can't find a logical reason, call it divine intervention."

"I wonder," David's soft expression sank to something more thoughtful.

"Uh oh," Angelica said knowingly. "I see the wheels turning."

"Hmm?" David looked back up at her. "Oh, nothing. Hey, since we're both awake, how about a late night run to Denny's?"

Angelica looked at the small red numbers on the clock. "It's one in the morning. We really should try and get back on a normal schedule."

Then her expression changed again and she smiled.

"Okay, lover," she said. "What's on your mind?"

"Just wondering if there's a connection," David mused.

"Between what?"

"Your goofy dream," David continued. "And the figure I saw in the house a few minutes ago."

"Someone was here?" Angelica sat up straighter.

"Yes, and no," David replied. "At least I think so. Or maybe you were projecting." He shrugged.

"David," she replied. "I told you. I don't know how to do any of that stuff that you do. I never had a talent for it."

"Well," David shrugged. "Either you have a latent talent for it, or someone was here."

"Then it means someone was here," Angelica countered. "Jeez, I'm glad I can't see or feel the things you can. I'd never be able to sleep again."

David shrugged. "You get used to it. Still, there was something about that figure that was familiar. Not familiar like I'm familiar with you, but familiar. It was like I knew that person."

His eyes snapped back up to look at her. "Tell me your dream."

"What?' Angelica asked, suddenly a bit uncomfortable. "It was just a dream, David. That's all it was."

"Maybe," David replied. "But you had a disturbing dream at the same time I woke up, while someone else was projecting into this house. That's three variables in the equation. And I don't believe in coincidences to begin with."

"There wasn't anything spectacular," Angelica said. "I just dreamed that I was locked in a cell, like I was in prison."

"Can you describe it?" David asked.

"Not without coffee," She replied. "I can assume that we won't be sleeping the rest of the night."

A little while later, she sat next to him at the breakfast bar in the kitchen, cradling a steaming mug.

"It was a brick cell, or maybe stone, I think," she began. "It was very dark, almost like a dungeon."

"So it wasn't like a modern prison cell?" David asked.

"God, no," she replied, suppressing a shudder. She rolled her hands forward as if trying to move the words.

"Remember the movie, Count of Monte Cristo?" she said in a moment of inspiration. "The cell he was in?"

"I remember," David nodded.

"It was like that," Angelica continued. "Dark, cold, with no outside light, except, instead of the door, there were bars, and torches flickering." Her eyes widened as details previously ignored began to surface.

"I could hear the torches crackling," she explained. "And I could smell…it was awful."

Her eyes turned to him with a haunted expression. "I saw everything as if it was happening to me, but I know it wasn't me. I was seeing everything through someone else's eyes."

David nodded. "Are you alright?" he asked, speaking in Greek.

"I'm fine." She replied automatically. "Just a little weirded out." Her voice faded and she looked at him in surprise.

David smiled knowingly. "Well, well."

"David?" Angelica asked, in a haunted voice. "How did I do that?"

"That is the sixty four thousand dollar question, isn't it?" he replied.

"I don't speak any other languages, David," Angelica continued. "I've never spoken another language."

"Maybe the person that was here, does?" David offered. "Think about it, honey. We just spent six weeks in another country, walking around a place that very well may have been our home in a previous life. There are connections to places and the people that live within them. Remember how heavy the air felt when we toured some of those other ruins?"

"I remember," Angelica replied. "It was like I knew the place, but it was my first time there."

"Call it whatever you like," David explained. "Race memory, residual energy, there are a dozen terms for it, but the bottom line is: this is a place where you're family, you're ancestors originated. If you lived a previous life there before, and walked around in your old ancient back yard, it would seem only natural to feel a vague familiarity."

"Add to that, the computer model of the skull they found in that family mausoleum, and its uncanny resemblance to you, and the facts all begin to fall into place." He shrugged.

"But in all the stories you told me," Angelica replied. "The only place that she, er, I was ever imprisoned was in what is now northern Italy. This didn't feel like that. It felt like-"

The phone rang suddenly, startling both of them.

"Who in the Hell?" David asked as he looked at the small caller ID screen. He handed the phone to Angelica.

"It's Gina," he said with a smile.

She placed the receiver to her ear. "Hello?"

"Hi there," Gina's voice came from the other end. "Sorry to call so late."

"No problem," Angelica replied. "We were awake actually."

"Oh, then I'm really sorry," Gina continued.

Angelica blushed. "Nothing like that."

"Can you put me on speaker phone?" Gina said suddenly. "I need to ask the two of you something."

"Sure," Angelica pressed the small speaker button and set the phone down between them. "What's up?"

"I just had the weirdest dream," Gina began.

"Aren't you supposed to be on duty?" David teased.

The only response to his jibe was a pointed silence.

"Sorry," David apologized.

"Anyway," Gina went on. "I nodded off a little while ago, and I had the strangest dream. I was standing in a yard somewhere, and I was beating the shit out of someone that looked just like you, Ang."

"What?" David perked up.

"I was gonna kill her," Gina went on. "All I remember was that I was way beyond angry. I went ballistic and I started beating the hell out of you, Angi. Then someone stopped me, just before I finished you off."

Angelica shuddered. "Well, at least you stopped." She let a nervous laugh escape her lips.

David leaned towards the phone. "Who stopped you, Gina?" he asked.

"What?" Gina replied.

"When you were beating her to smithereens, who stopped you?"

Angelica winced. "David."

"I don't know," Gina replied uneasily. She was clearly shaken by whatever she had seen. "I think his name was Alex?"

David literally could feel and hear all the pieces slam down into place. He sat back on the stool and let a sigh escape his lips. His expression was one of undeniable certainty.

"Son of a bitch," he whispered.

Angelica looked at him expectantly as silence descended on the room. It was as if the air suddenly became lighter with the burden of discovery lifted.

"David?" Angelica asked.

"Will someone tell me what the Hell is going on?" Gina's voice demanded from the phone.

"It wasn't a dream, G," David said quietly. "Neither was yours, honey. And neither was my little twitch."

Angelica frowned.

"Then what the hell was it?" Gina asked.

"It was a message," David said, his smile growing. He saw the frown on Angelica's face.

"It was a sending," He explained. "Like a message in a bottle, or perhaps a full blown visitation."

"From who?" Gina asked.

David mused for a few moments, his first fingers tapping slowly. "I think," he said slowly. "I think I have a way to find out."

"Sounds like he's about to go all pagan on you Angi," Gina said soberly.

"Shaman, if you please," David corrected her. It was an old joke between them, ever since David had admitted his unique talents to Angelica and Gina shortly after Angelica and he had begun seeing one another.

David thought for a while longer, his dark eyes flicking back and forth slightly, but focused inwards as his idea blossomed.

Angelica watched this with a growing sense of unease. Finally, she could bear it no more.

"Honey?" she asked quietly. "What are you thinking?"

"Gina?" David asked quickly. "What time do you go off duty?"

"I already finished up," Gina replied. "I'm actually on my way home."

"Get out to the clubhouse," David replied. "I need to get some things in order here, and we'll meet you there, say an hour?"

"Uh, sure," Gina sounded mildly confused. "Why?"

David was back on his feet, moving towards the stairs. "Too much to go into now. I'll fill you in when we get there, okay?"

He disappeared up the steps and into the small room that served as his library.

Angelica heard the sound of something being moved and then a zipper.

"We'll see you in an hour," she finished, looking back at the phone.

"See you then," Gina replied and the line went dead.

Angelica peered through the door into the small spare bedroom and found David sitting at his desk. A gym bag that she had never seen before was lying on the floor, open. Within, she could see the dark leather of several large books, obviously old.

To her left, she saw that a section of the bookshelf had been slid aside, revealing a niche in the wall.

"What is this?" she asked, looking down at the book bag.

"My Book of Shadows," David said as he flipped gently through several delicate yellowed leaves. "And a few other volumes that I stumbled across."

Angelica reached into the bag and removed a dark leather bound volume that seemed to be newer than the others.

A pentagram was etched in the thick fleshy surface, interlaid with silver and surrounded by various other symbols.

A single, large silver key was attached to the cover by a leather strap, though the book had no clasp or lock.

"What is this one?" She asked, flipping the cover open, her curiosity getting the better of her.

David turned and saw her.

"Stop!" he said urgently. She froze and looked up at him with the open book in her hand.

He took a deep breath of relief. "Just stop." He repeated more calmly.

"What is this?" she asked him.

"That is mine," he repeated. He nodded at the artfully drawn lines of characters on the inside of the cover.

Angelica looked down and frowned.

Written in an ornate hand that she had seen David use before were several neatly penned lines.

_Any unworthy or unwanted, heed this final warning:_

_Should you turn these sacred pages,_

_That which you most desire_

_Will be forever at your fingertips,_

_Never within your grasp._

Above and beneath it were lines in a different script, written in a language that she could not decipher. She looked back up at him as he reached out and closed the cover, taking the book from her hands.

"You don't want to mess with that," he said with a grim smile.

He set the book down atop the hutch and went back to the one he had been perusing.

"What was that for?" Angelica asked, a little perturbed. "And what's with the hidden hole in the wall?"

"So you wouldn't stumble on that and screw yourself for life," David replied, his eyes scanning the old handwritten pages. "That one is my Book of Shadows."

Angelica frowned again. "And that is, what?"

"Spell book, mainly," David replied. "Like a Shaman's diary, or Pagan, if you want to use Gina's term."

"And that little warning on the first page?" Angelica continued.

"A curse," David answered. "Every Book of Shadows has one, if the owner knows what he or she is doing." He looked up at her and flashed a soft, somewhat wicked smile. "They can be quite nasty, depending on the owner."

"What about these other ones?" Angelica pressed. She had an almost childlike urge to remove the next tome, and had to force her hands to stop reaching into the bag.

David shrugged. "Those are fine. Hope you can read French or Latin, though."

Suddenly, his finger pressed down alongside one of the paragraphs he was scanning.

"Here we go," he said quietly. His fingers began moving back and forth along the page as he read. He began mumbling in Latin as he did so, as if translating the audible sound into English as he read.

Angelica stood and looked over his shoulder. Her eyes went a little wider as she saw the ornately beautiful handwriting covering the pages. The characters were dark and thickly drawn.

"When was this thing written?" she asked in astonishment.

"The original?" David replied, still reading. "Sometime in the late thirteenth century. This is an inscribed copy that was printed back in the late seventeen hundreds, shortly after the Salem Massacre."

He spun the chair half way around and slid to the bookshelf behind him, grabbing another, more modern volume and opening it.

"And here," he said, speaking to himself. He nodded and went back to the old volume.

"Quero turbatus animus barathrum," he read aloud.

"What does that mean?" Angelica asked. It was fascinating, in a way, to watch how his mind worked, jumping from one language to another.

"Basically," David said as he flipped through another few pages. "To seek a restless spirit in the Underworld."

"Sounds like fun," Angelica sighed.

"It could be," David replied absently. He picked up his Book of Shadows and turned to the blank pages near the end, penning several lines quickly and neatly. Then he bounced back and forth between the two volumes and eventually drew a third out of the bag.

Angelica watched him moving from one book to the other, and then the third as he write his notes.

After a few minutes of this, he closed the three books and returned them to their places before drawing out another one and flipping through it.

"And what's this one?" Angelica asked.

"The Book of Going Forth by Day," David replied. Then he smiled and looked up at her. "The Egyptian Book of the Dead."

Angelica looked back up at the volumes of books lined up on the shelves in the little room, and for the first time, really noted some of the titles.

After several minutes, David replaced the Book of the Dead and drew another one, penned some more lines and then drew another. The process repeated several more times before David sighed and closed his Book of Shadows.

"What was all that for?' Angelica asked, her curiosity only barely outpacing her fading patience.

"I had to get my facts and components in order," David replied. "I don't want to screw this up, so I wanted as many safety precautions as I could."

"Safety precautions?" Angelica asked. "For what?"

David slipped his Book of Shadows into a small leather shoulder bag and stood.

"Just in case." He said. "Let's go."

Gina leaned against the fender of her silver Mercury, staring up through the thick layer of leaves at the star twinkling in the heavens. The air was thick and humid, though not uncomfortably warm. The soft breeze lifted her long black hair and her pale blue eyes studied the environment around her.

She looked back at the dark, simple building behind her. It was a basic structure, like a giant box, with a single door off to one side and a pair of oversized sliding garage doors in the center. The single light buzzed softly, illuminating the address, and several moths continued their dizzying futile dance around the bulb.

The night noises drifted around her, making the dark trees seem alive. She glanced at her watch again and sighed. "This had better be worth it."

She was tired from long hours and even longer days in between. A sense of growing unease that she couldn't pin down had been tickling the back of her mind for some time now. The clinical side of her mind attributed it to her work, but the emotional side of her mind wondered if her friend was really alright with her new relationship.

True, David and Angelica had been together for nearly two years since that queer evening in the city. And Angelica was happy. That much, she knew for certain. She could hear it in Angelica's voice whenever he came up in conversation, or see it n her eyes whenever she saw the two of them together. Still, there was an aspect of David that unnerved her. She could always tell when someone wasn't being totally honest with her, and she knew that David was harboring something that he didn't want her to know. Maybe he had confided in Angelica about his little secret, and maybe not. Maybe she was unnecessarily concerned for her friend and maybe not.

She ran through all the facts about David that she knew.

His family had died when he was young, and his Godparents had raised him from the time he was fourteen. The loss had made him incredibly wealthy, though the details of that were unknown to her – probably a settlement of some kind after a fatal accident.

He was personable and friendly, extravagantly generous at times, contemplative and thoughtful in a way that Gina always considered unusually calculating, which unnerved her. Well educated, well spoken, open to the point of sometimes being too honest, and even after all that, he was still a mystery.

The sound of a motorcycle engine pulled her from her thoughts and she looked up to see the big blue and white Valkyrie come crunching up the fine gravel drive to the building. She squinted against the brilliant beams of the headlight as it crossed her.

The big bike fell silent as Angelica hopped off the back seat and embraced her friend.

David adjusted hi book bag as he strode towards her.

"Thanks for coming out, G," he said sincerely. He flipped open the small pad and entered a code. The large doors slid mechanically aside to allow them entrance.

"Before we do this," David explained, looking at Gina intently. "There's something that you need to know about me."

"Here it comes," Gina thought as she felt her nebulous suspicions were about to be confirmed.

"I told Angelica about most of it when we were on the plane back home the other day," David continued. "I figured that it would be best if she knew everything after what we saw in Greece over the last month."

He fixed Gina with an uncharacteristically intense stare. "Unfortunately, without everything I showed her, you're going to have to take a few things on faith."

The large doors slid closed behind them and the trio moved through the dark abandoned shop of the Zombie Squad Club House towards a locked door at the rear that led to a room neither of them had ever been privy to.

In fact, Gina noted suddenly, even when the entire extended biker family had been here for a party, that door had always remained closed and locked.

David drew out a key, hanging from a chain about his neck, and inserted it into the lock.

He turned to the two of them and his eyes were clear and intense, with just a hint of angst.

"Please understand something," he said in a voice with just a hint of fear. "When you go through this door, you're going to be stepping the rest of the way into my world. I apologize in advance if any of this offends either of you."

The lock clicked and the door swung open with a soft, ominous creak.

The room within was pitch dark, like a hole in the world of night.

Gina looked at Angelica, who merely looked back at her with those calm, seawater eyes. In her gaze she saw the trust she had in David and the twitch in her gut eased a bit. Then Angelica entered the room and vanished.

David gestured for Gina to proceed, and expectant, almost pleading look in his eyes.

Swallowing the sudden worry back down, she followed.

The door shut behind them and they heard David reach into his pocket. There was a rustle and then the explosion of a match. The orange flame forced the shadows away as David lit a candle, hanging on a sconce in the richly paneled wall.

Beneath that sconce was a small table, with several more, partially burned candles lying upon it. David took one and lit the blackened wick. Then he moved further down the wall and lit another candle, and then another.

As he continued through the room, the details of the place began to emerge from the darkness.

Angelica and Gina felt their jaws drop in wonder as the room revealed itself in the flickering yellow light.

Along the paneled wall hung several tapestries, all embroidered with symbols and images of various scenes. Some were quite lovely in their intricacies while others seemed more ominous.

In the center of the chamber, was a large, eight foot diameter pentagram, embroidered in the thick dark carpet that covered the floor. The silver thread shone like burning copper in the feeble light.

At the far end was a raised platform, upon which rested the carven figure of a woman, dressed in a simple flowing gown and staring back at them with her pale eyes. Her face bore a serene expression, and she held a torch in each of her hands.

David lit the small wicks in the ends of each torch and then stepped back and bowed his head reverently to the idol. Then he resumed his circuit of the room, chasing the shadows into the corners as the firelight built.

As Gina's eyes scanned the room, she saw small tables in the center of each wall, altars of various types, all decorated and obviously well maintained. Two more altars stood to either side of the statue, more ornate than the others, draped in fine purple cloth.

"What is this place?" Gina breathed.

When her friend didn't respond, Gina looked down and saw her, with her eyes fixed forward, staring.

She followed her gaze back to the statue, and for the first time, saw the two smaller images to either side of the woman. They were carved in the figures of ferocious dog like creatures, with wide open mouths showing fierce pointed teeth.

When Gina looked back at Angelica, she did not see an expression of fear or dread. Instead, Angelica had a thoughtful frown, as if she vaguely recognized the canines.

"Angi?" Gina asked.

Angelica blinked and looked back up at her friend. She only offered a helpless shrug.

"Welcome to the Temple of the Crossroads," David said finally as he lit the last candle.

"What is all this?" Gina finally asked.

"Freedom of Religion, at its finest," David replied with a nervous smile. "It's where I 'go pagan', as you like to put it."

"Okay," Gina said slowly, still unsure. "So, why are we here?"

"We were each visited tonight," David explained. "You two had dreams, and I had an actual projection appear. I'm willing to bet that all three of those events are connected by something, or someone."

"Yeah?" Gina asked.

"I want to find out who, or what that was," David replied. "And I'm gong to need the two of you to help."

"Why us?" Angelica asked.

"Because we are all involved in this," David explained. "Whatever it was, wanted to get our attention. And we are all connected by something deeper than what you understand." He looked steadily at Gina.

"How so?" Gina asked.

"I'll explain that once we're done," David replied, dodging the question.

"This is also a place of power," he continued quickly. "It's a portal that we can use to make this easier."

"David," Angelica said. "I already told you. I can't do the things that you do, or see the things that you see."

"I think you can," David countered. "I think both of you can. In fact, I'm certain of it."

He went to the near wall and procured three large cushions from the perimeter.

He set these within the embroidered pentagram on the floor and invited them to sit.

"Please," David asked when the two of them hesitated. "I need you to trust me on this. Please."

Gina and Angelica stepped forward and seated themselves within the circle.

"Thank you," David said sincerely. He stepped over to one of the altars and retrieved one of the thick burning candles stored within its base.

He set that in the center of the pentagram and lit the three wicks imbedded in the wax.

The flames flickered for a moment and then rose like three gentle spires of light.

Then David stood erect and turned slowly in a circle three times before sitting himself on the remaining cushion.

"I've created a circle," he explained. "Please don't leave the circle until we're done, alright?"

Both women nodded. David leaned forward, cupping his hands around the candle and muttering something that neither of them could make out, and then he sat back.

"Each of these flames represents one of us." He continued. He pointed from one flame to the next. "Gina, Angelica, David," he intoned. "Focus on your flame and only on your flame."

The two women looked down at the three burning flames.

"Gina," David said quietly. "You dreamed that you were attacking someone. I want you to focus on the person you were attacking. Picture that person in your mind to the last detail and let everything else just slip away. Angelica, you said that you were seeing everything through someone else's eyes. I want you to focus on that. Find that person. I want you to be that person. Let the world you know fall from your mind and focus on that one, single moment in time when you were that person." He looked at the two of them. "You understand?"

Both women nodded.

"Now, you may feel like you're slipping away. Sometimes a person feels like they're falling, while others feel like they're floating up out of their bodies. Don't worry about that. You'll feel it, like a heaviness that starts in your limbs and moves inwards. Then a buzzing sound is sometimes heard, and once you get used to that, you will begin to hear things, like voices, and maybe even see things. Let those visions pass and focus only on what I told you to focus on. Push all your energy towards that goal."

He adjusted his position on his cushion and sighed.

"Ready?"

They nodded.

David took a deep breath and let it out slowly. "Okay. Begin."

All three of them settled down and focused on the three tiny burning flames. David breathed deeply and let himself begin to sink slowly into that comfortable, warm sensation that always accompanied his meditations. His vision blurred for a moment and then he could see the energy of the portal surrounding them. It swirled about the three of them like waves of silvery light. Moving like mist over them, and flowing into them.

Well, flowing into Gina at least. David turned his eyes towards Angelica and saw the energies moving close and then recoiling away as if it were reluctant to touch her.

"Baby," David said in a slow, calm voice. He could see the intensity of her gaze. It was an expression that mixed determination and fear in equal measure.

"Don't force it," David said gently. "Just let it happen. Don't be afraid of it."

Angelica looked up at him with mild surprise. "What?"

"Just relax," David said gently. He smiled. "I know you're scared of this. You don't need to be."

He smiled gently and she closed her eyes. After a few deep breaths to help calm her, she looked again at the small candle. This time, David saw the energy begin to actually caress her, flowing over her. It enveloped the two of them in a gentle, silvery fog.

Above them, David saw the vortex swirling, like a massive whirlpool, stretching into infinity.

Arcs of power, like bolts of lightning, sizzled and crackled in the midst of the maelstrom. David felt the hairs on his arms stand to attention as the energy built.

"We're doing just fine, girls," he said, though he wasn't sure if his lips had moved. Still, they seemed to acknowledge him in their own silent way. He let his consciousness begin to slip from his body.

"Nearly there!" He felt the excitement building. It had been years since he had done a projection such as this. "Whatever happens, just stay calm and stay in the circle."

Gina felt the power wash over her, filling her very being, like a cup that was filled to capacity. Then the energy began washing over her, flowing all through her, like being stuck beneath the water. It was intoxicating and seductive in the way it made her feel. She felt strength within her that she had never known existed.

Images began to flash before her eyes. People and places she knew she was acquainted with and places that were familiar, though she had never seen them before in this particular life. Voices began echoing all around her, some she knew, and others she could not readily identify. She let this pass, maintaining her focus on the small, orange constant that flickered before her.

The energies surrounding her became a palpable sensation running over her flesh. In the distance, she heard a cry, long and loud, filled with ferocity. It seemed to echo from the void, floating around her but always closing until it seemed to rush at her from the bowels of infinity and block out all other sound.

The world flashed and instantly, she was somewhere else…standing in a small courtyard, between a modest looking log home and a small barn. Figures she couldn't identify lay on the earth nearby, and another lay across the yard against a crudely cut fence.

A hot wrath suddenly roared up from within her, like the flames of a forge, burning away everything except the internal pain and loss of something so great that only blood would correct it.

Her hands balled into fists and she began stalking towards the figure near the fence. The figure that looked like her best friend. All was a fire and rage in her mind. She heard herself cry out.

Angelica felt and heard the thundering trip hammer of her heart as she became aware of the energy that was around her.

"David?" she felt herself cry out, though her lips did not move. Her fear became something tangible, like a damp, cold breeze that penetrated through her flesh and went straight to the bones. "David? What is this?"

"Just relax," She heard him say with a gentle calm that seemed to burrow past the cold fear, like a warming ray of sunshine. "You're fine."

She felt the energies begin to pull her backwards, as if she were backpedaling on her feet, always moving backwards, into the past. Memories and voices flooded her mind with clarity that she did not enjoy in the waking world.

Voices of friends and family long departed rang in her ears, images bombarded her mind. That small orange light that was her lifeline flashed out of her view for a moment.

Something like panic seized her mind and she began to scrabble, like a drowning person clawing for one more breath of air before the final plunge. The silvery energy that had been like a gentle fog, now crackled with uncontrolled power.

"David!" Her mind screamed out to him in panic. "David! Help me!"

A single calming sound, like someone mimicking a breeze, sounded all around her.

"It's alright Angelica," she heard his voice, calm and confident. A hand fell gently upon her shoulder and then moved to caress her cheek. She looked up and saw him, but it wasn't him at the same time.

Across his left eye was a vicious looking reddish scar, and his close cropped goatee looked a bit thicker. She looked into his eyes and immediately, most of the fear vanished. The torrential energies seemed to calm and smooth.

"There you go," he said with an encouraging smile. "I knew you could do this."

"Beginners luck," she replied.

"Okay," David said. "Now, picture the cell, down to the last detail."

She turned her head back towards that distant, pale point of candlelight that was her anchor in reality, and let her mind call out the image of that place.

"Good," David nodded as if he could see the image coalescing in her mind.

"Okay," David continued. "Gotta fly for a bit. Just stay calm. Everything will be alright."

"Promise?" Angelica ordered.

David crossed his heart and grinned. "Be back in a bit."

With an exhilarated cry, he flew up through the vortex and vanished in the pale blue flash of light.

Angelica let the energies continue to wash over her, as the image she held faded from her mind, as if it were being taken away from her.

She looked over at Gina, her eyes focused on an event that she couldn't see.

"You alright?" Angelica asked her friend.

Gina looked up at her in surprise. "He took it. He took that image with him."

"He did the same thing to me," Angelica replied. "What do we do now?"

Gina's eyes remained focused on some inner task that seemed to be causing her stress.

"We wait," was all she said tightly.

"What are you doing?" Angelica asked.

She reached out and put her hand on Gina's shoulder. Then she looked down and gasped in astonishment. Just beyond the whirling vortex of energy and images, she could see herself and her friend, seated cross legged on the cushions, their eyes focused on the small flickering flames of the candle. Across from them, they saw David in a similar state, his eyes focused completely inward, oblivious to the reality below them.

"Wow," Angelica breathed. Her hand came to rest on Gina's shoulder.

There was a flash and a cacophony of sound rushed into her ears. Her hands immediately clapped to the side of her head and she fell away, dropping back towards her own body.

In her mind, she saw a single image. That of a reconstructed face rotating slowly on the monitor. It was her face, staring back at her from across the span of ages.

"Gabrielle," she thought. "My name was Gabrielle." It was as if that name unleashed another torrent of images and emotions. They flooded through her mind like the energy now writhing and rocketing through her. It felt as if she was in a chamber and the pressure around her was building. She was squeezing through a narrow opening, and there was resistance to it, as if she were not supposed to be going to this place.

When she looked down at her hands, she saw the bracers covering her forearms. They were of red leather, or hide, and filigreed in silver and intricate beadwork. A strength and knowledge that she did not possess seemed to wash over her mind, and she felt a new power flowing through her limbs. She was herself, and more at the same time.

Angelica looked over towards her friend and saw Gina standing in a whirlwind of her own. Two images vied for dominance. One was the modern image of Gina, standing amidst the chaos, dressed n simple jeans, shoes and blouse. The second was of a woman in dark leather armor, high boots, with cold blue eyes and long dark hair. The two images seemed to blend together into one complete entity. In her own mind, Angelica realized that the exact same thing was happening to her as well. There was a new level of consciousness that she had never been aware of. A new confidence filled her, calming the rising panic in her mind. Along with that was a sense of familiarity with her friend and her lover that she had been unaware of before. IT felt as if her mind were boiling over from the images and memories flooding into her. She saw Gina place a hand on either side of her head, and then scream in pain. The same electrical sensation also filled her, blinding her in sheets of white fiery awareness. With a cry and a sound like a crashing wave on the sea, the world spun violently and she felt herself violently yanked down.

The white maelstrom vanished in a clap of thunder and all three of them fell back or sideways.

Slowly, painfully, Angelica pulled herself up on her elbow and looked at the others. Her entire body was tingling with the expended energy. Her mind was reeling in realizations. She winced as she tried to collect herself.

Across from her, she could see the form of her best friend begin to stir, and to her right, the form of David also moving.

"Jesus Marimba," David groaned as he pulled himself upright. "You kids alright?"  
Green eyes met blue and in a flash of realization, the torrent of pain and memories calmed.

Gina's brows furrowed in confusion. She looked down at her clothing and then up at her friend.

"Gabrielle?" she asked in a voice that was hers, and yet had a huskiness that she had never had before.

Dawning and shock.

"Xena?"

The two women rose unsteadily to their feet, as if neither one was certain this event was real. Gabrielle reached out and placed a hand on Xena's forearm, and then the two of them converged in a desperate embrace.

"I thought I lost you!" Gabrielle cried, tears in her eyes.

"Not likely," Xena replied.

"I've got so much to tell you," Gabrielle went on. "So many things have happened since."

"Oh, shit," David moaned. "What did you two do?"

Gabriele and Xena started and looked down at him as he slowly got to his feet.

"David?" Gabrielle whispered in amazement.

"Yeah?" David replied, a little uncertain.

Instantly, he was almost knocked back to the ground when she threw her arms around his neck and held him tightly.

In that instant, the vague familiarity that he had experienced with Angelica solidified into something concrete. He looked into her eyes and everything clicked into place.

"Oh my God," he breathed. When he looked up at Gina, he saw the same, familiar look in her crystal blue eyes.

Gina smiled.

"What the hell did you two do?" he asked again, completely astounded. He stepped back from Angelica as if she were made of hot coals.

"David?" Angelica said, her brows furrowing in confusion. "David, it's me. It's Gabrielle."

"I know," David breathed. His eyes were wide, almost haunted. "I know. This wasn't supposed to happen."

He backed away from the two of them and towards the door, his eyes locked on them as if they were no longer human.

Gabrielle looked into his face and saw the pain welling up in his eyes. Then he was gone.

"What happened?" Xena asked.

Gabrielle stared at the door swinging gently open, and at the garish pale lights of the shop beyond.

She looked back at Xena, who merely shrugged.

Gabrielle headed for the door in pursuit.

"Gabrielle! Wait!" Xena called after her.

She found him in the upstairs common room, a tumbler of amber liquid turning in his fingers, his eyes fixed upon the sparkling light from the simple lamps on the walls.

She studied him for a moment and felt; more than saw a deeply seated despair.

"Hi," she said quietly. The momentary flash of injured elation and pride was gone as she beheld him. She took a timid step forward, suddenly feeling like she was walking across thin ice.

When no immediate answer was forthcoming, she paused and looked at him. His expression ripped at her heart. It was as if something had reached into his body and ripped free all the joy and life that had been there a moment before.

"That wasn't supposed to happen," he said bitterly. His eyes flashed angrily in her direction and then past her as Xena came quietly in through the door. "What the fuck did you two do?"

The vehemence of the statement took them both aback a bit. Gabrielle winced visibly from the sting of his words. She looked back at Xena who remained impassive, her blue eyes watching David carefully with the same clinical detachment that she always had used when gauging another person. His dark eyes felt her probing and locked on hers.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked darkly.

Xena blinked. It had been a long time since anyone had been able to look her in the eye like that.

Gabrielle looked back and forth between them.

"You know," she said cautiously. "I would have thought you'd be happy about this?"

His dark eyes fixed on her. Her breath froze under that gaze. His eyes were like black pits, dark and lifeless, filled with bitter frustration.

"Happy?" his voice had a tight rasp to it. "Happy? You thought I'd be happy?"

His fingers tightened on the thick glass. "Why in the Hell would you think this would make me happy? What am I? A glutton for fucking punishment?"

"Hey," Xena said gently.

"Not a fucking word out of you!" David shot back.

The thick glass shattered in his hand and he recoiled from the shards that burst from his hand.

"God dammit!" he muttered as he turned and disappeared into the kitchen.

They both saw the fresh blood appear on his hands.

Gabrielle moved towards the open space in the bar.

"Gabrielle," Xena said quickly. "Maybe you should leave him be for the moment."

Gabrielle stopped at the doorway and looked back.

"He's still my husband, Xena," she said quietly.

She saw him standing over the deep, metallic sink. Then she heard several quiet clinks as he pulled the pieces of glass from his palm and dropped them into the bowl.

"Do you have any idea what I've gone through?" he asked bitterly. "Spending the last two years trying to get some semblance of a normal life back under my feet? Convincing myself that I wasn't insane because I lived nearly forty years in a four day fucking coma! Hearing people tell me that I'm wrong when I describe the dinner I cooked in this place a few days after you showed up and I can still smell the food cooking! Feeling my body break when I wrecked that car and knowing, KNOWING, that I lost an eye in that wreck, then finding the chassis of that car sitting in my damned garage just like before we restored it? I can still remember the cold wind of that Halloween night, and still, we never went on that ride because I also remember the party we had here that Halloween! Two fucking worlds bouncing back and forth and I know they're both true because I lived through both of them!"

He winced as he finger slipped and accidentally jammed a piece of glass deeper into his hand.

He let the water run over the bloody hand and found the errant glass, dropping it into the sink with the rest.

"I'm thirty three years old," he babbled, "But I feel like I should be ninety sometimes! I lived an entire life with one person, but I still haven't started to live a life with someone, all while remembering the life I had before you showed up, and inserting another life into the middle of those two, all with the same person that I lost TWICE - but never really lost, I only think I did!"

She heard his voice breaking as the rant continued. The angry facade began to crumble.

Gabrielle stepped next to him, holding a wash cloth in her hand.

"Let me see that," she said gently, reaching out to inspect his wounded hand.

"Don't fucking touch me!" David flailed away, his eyes wide, filling with tears. He backed against the wall and stared at her with a mixture of fear and contempt, over washed by sadness.

Xena appeared in the doorway, ready to help defend her friend if the confrontation had descended into a brawl. When she saw David, wild eyed and wracked with grief, her steely gaze softened.

"What the hell are you anyway?" he asked. "What the hell did I do that was so wrong, that this is the only life I get to live, watching as the same people bounce in and out of my life like a god damned psychic mind fuck!" he sank to the ground and shuddered.

"What did you say?" Gabrielle asked when he muttered something that she failed to hear. He looked up at her, completely defeated.

"I said," he hissed. "I can't deal with this any more!"

Of all the things that he had said up to that point, those words stabbed the deepest into her heart.

"What?" she asked.

"Just get out," David put his head in his uninjured hand. "Just get the fuck out."

Xena put her hand gently on Gabrielle's shoulder. She felt the pain as palpably as Gabrielle, watching as her 'father' was casting them away. The child in her wept at the betrayal, even as the adult side of her mind understood.

"Come on, Gabrielle," she said gently.

She led Gabrielle back out of the kitchen, her green eyes locked on the form seated on the floor, head bowed.

Gabrielle was like a child in shock, being guided by her friend towards the door.

"He needs some time to get things straight," Xena said gently. "It'll be alright."

They were almost to the outer door of the main room when Gabrielle suddenly stiffened.

"No," she said in whisper.

Xena turned back to look at her and was surprised at the ferocity in her green eyes.

"No," Gabrielle said more strongly. "We've been through far too much to let it all go now! Not like this!"

"Gabrielle," Xena said gently. "Don't push him. Not right now. It could drive him mad?"

"He already thinks he is crazy, Xena," Gabrielle shot back. "And he's going to keep thinking that until we deal with this!"

"We?" Xena's eyebrow rose.

"Yes," Gabrielle said. "We. He was my husband, and he was your father, remember?"

"Gabrielle," Xena began, but she held up one finger, stopping her and turned back towards the kitchen.

He was still hunched down on the floor, his knees drawn up, his head leaning back against the wall, tear streaks covering his cheeks.

"No," She said sternly, when she entered. She stepped up before him and dropped down, looking him in the eye. His eyes were bloodshot and focused on her with a mixture of dread and hope.

"You look at me, David Forester," she said in a soft commanding voice. "You look at me and you look hard!"

When he turned his eyes back onto her, she smiled.

"Now," she said firmly. "I'm not a ghost. I'm not a hallucination brought on by that dragon juice you drink! Yes we had a life before, and yes, it doesn't fit with everything that you experienced when you got back here. I can't explain it, and I'm not going to try! I lost you twice too, remember? Once when I got sucked back to my time without you, and once when you died in my arms! Now, I can't explain why that life got jammed into a four day coma in this world, and I'm not going to try!"

He blinked.

"You said that you would do anything to get to me, remember?" Gabrielle pressed. "You risked your life to get back to me, and we made a life together because you were brave enough to take a chance!"

She put her hand under his chin and fixed her green eyes on him.

"You came back for me, when I had given up," she said. "And when I woke up next to that fire and saw you kneeling there, I thought I had gone mad. I couldn't believe that you did it. Then you looked at me, just like I'm looking at you now, and I knew in that one moment, that you had come back for me!"

She began wrapping the cloth around his bloodied hand and smiled. "It just turned out to work both ways, and this time, I came back for you."

The sobs began as a soft series of convulsions somewhere in David's chest, and his eyes flowed anew.

Gently, she wrapped her arms around his neck and felt his hand tentatively on her shoulder. Then the emotion welled up and burst out of him, and he clutched at her as if he feared she would vanish at any moment.

Gabrielle felt her own tears blurring her vision as she held him, her fingers caressing his hair. She whispered soft, reassuring words in his ear, and let him ride the tumult of emotion out until it had expended itself.

When she did finally pull away far enough to look back into his eyes, she felt relief flooding over her as she saw some of his old fire slowly returning.

He looked into her eyes and smiled wearily. "We need to have a long talk about this." Then he looked past her at the figure in the doorway. "All of us."

Xena smiled and gave a little shrug. "At the moment. I think the two of you need to talk. We can always talk later."

Gabrielle looked back at her best friend and smiled. "Thank you," she mouthed.

"I'll be out here," Xena continued, jerking her thumb towards the bar. "I don't know about you two, but I can sure use a drink right now."

Gabrielle and David watched her smile and back out of the room. There was something so mildly comical about the way she did it, that David felt the last vestiges of his fear fall away, and the laughter burst out of him in a long, weary chuckle.

Gabrielle turned back to him and kissed him on the forehead before wrapping her arms around him again.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

They all sat around one of the small tables in the common room of the clubhouse. David absently turned the smoldering cigar between his fingers as he stared thoughtfully into the fresh glass before him. His right hand was wrapped in a proper bandage now, and the sting of that injury only served to confirm that he was awake.

Xena lounged against the back of the chair, a bottle of beer in her hand, and her clear blue eyes studying him intently. It seemed that she was seeking the correct way to broach a subject, but at the same time, was reluctant to do so.

Gabrielle also watched her husband carefully. While the emotional turmoil seemed to have finally worn itself out, she could still sense something within the man before her. It was a pain, buried beneath the surface like a wound that wanted to fester.

David set the cigar in the ash tray and bushed his long hair back with a sweep of his hand. He looked at the two of them and sighed.

"You two need to understand something," he said finally. "I had finally gotten over losing the two of you. It took damn near two years, but I had almost convinced myself that it had all been some kind of wild dream, or something."

"But then you found Angelica," Xena said evenly. "And she was identical to Gabrielle in every way."

David looked over at her with a hint of steel in his eyes.

The momentary storm settled and he shrugged. "Call it rationalization, if you like."

Xena shook her head. "No it wasn't."

"Xena," Gabrielle sighed.

"No," the Warrior Princess continued. She smiled. "You have to realize something." She looked back at David "We went back to Jerry's Place a few times after that night you came running out to her car. All Jerry and the others could say, when they spoke to us at all, was that they hadn't seen you as alive as you were when you came running out of the place after us. And then, when I pulled you over that night, you were pretty steamed at me for preventing Gabrielle," She paused. "Angelica from coming back to see you."

"You remember all that?" David asked in surprise.

"We remember everything," Gabrielle said with a smile.

"So," David began, but his words seemed to fail.

"Who we were," Xena said slowly. "And who we are now are all in here." She tapped her temple.

"But how?" David asked. "The ritual I set up for us tonight didn't have anything to do with this. It was a seeking spell that I put together, not a summoning."

At that question, Xena shifted uncomfortably a bit. "That was my fault."

At that statement, both David and Gabrielle looked over at her in surprise.

"How?" Gabrielle asked.

David's question was more specific. "What did you do?"

"Remember when I was fifteen?" Xena explained. It was the first time she had referred her past with them, and in his mind, David took it as another small piece of confirmation that his life in that period had been real. "Just after I got you out of that gully?"

David smiled in spite of himself. "I remember."

"After I got my Chakram back," Xena explained. "And I mentioned the drink at Jerry's."

Dawning crossed David's face and he sat back smiling. "You had a link to this era."

Xena nodded.

Gabrielle looked at the two of them. "I don't understand."

"That flash of memory," David explained. "Was her link to this time, this incarnation of herself."

"When you came in contact with me, while we were in the vortex," Xena continued. "You kind of got pulled along for the ride."

Now it was David's turn to raise a skeptical eyebrow. "Kind of?" He chuckled. "You two have been thick as thieves for the better part of two millennia." He pointed at the two of them in turn. "If you were going to do this, you sure as Hell weren't going to do it without bringing your soul mate along."

Xena shrugged. "I wasn't sure it would work. If it had, I was planning on convincing you to do the ritual again and try and bring Gabrielle back. I didn't think you'd have had an issue with that."

"Wait a minute," Gabrielle interjected. "If the purpose of that spell wasn't to bring the two of us here, then what was it for?"

"All I wanted to do," David explained. "Was track down the being that visited the three of us tonight. Whoever, or whatever it was had to have been pretty strong, or pretty desperate, to attempt a projection of that magnitude. I didn't have any intention of creating a conduit for the two of you to jump forward like this."

"And did you?" Gabrielle asked. "Did you find out who or what it was?"

David smiled and looked across the table at Xena.

"Did I ever…."

The few torches in the sconces fizzled and popped in the dank air. The slimy moisture coated the stone walls in a thin sheen, like gray blood, and shadows danced and flickered in the feeble light.

She lay in a dirty pile of old straw, scooped into a mound to provide some cushion. Her clothes were filthy and her hair hung in matted strings over her face as she sat staring blankly through the bars of the cell at the prisoner across from her.

Judging by the foul odor and the fact that the figure of the old man hadn't moved for nearly a day, she assumed he had finally died.

"Why couldn't that have been me," she thought helplessly.

She hadn't seen a soul for nearly three days now. No food, no water, nothing. She had begun to wonder if the guards had merely decided to forget the few prisoners here, and let them rot.

Her dull eye scanned her surroundings again, like they had so many times over the past months. How long had she been shut away from the sunlight? She couldn't remember anymore. Her entire universe had compressed to these three small unyielding walls and the corroded bars of the door.

Only the night before – had it been night? Only then had she had a small glimpse of what freedom was floating through a void and finding herself standing in a small, cozy hallway. The dwelling had been constructed in a way that was unfamiliar, but the smooth wood floor and the pristine white walls had spoken to a warmth that she couldn't comprehend. At the base of the steps, she could see the paneled room below decorated with soft furniture, shelves, a low table, and a large rectangular object that she could not identify.

Seated in the shadows, on one of those chairs was the figure of a man, his fingers absently pulling at the whiskers of his goatee, and his eyes locked forward, but inward in contemplation.

She had never in her existence asked for aid from one of 'them', but her father no longer heard her. Her own powers were gone. And her will was failing.

"Can you help me?" she begged.

The man froze. His eyes cleared as he snapped back to reality, and he looked up towards her in mild surprise.

"Ang?" he asked quietly. "Are you alright?"

"He can see me!" Her mind screamed in relief. "Please! Help me!"

There was a jolting sensation, and she felt herself pulled inexorably back. Back towards the darkness, towards the stench, towards the forgotten Hell to which she had been consigned.

"No!" Her mind screamed desperately. "Gods, no! Don't send me back there!"

Her own world crashed down upon her with painful reality as she felt the boot in her ribs again. Looking up, she could see the open cell door, and the figure of the Athenian Guard standing over her. His hand was on his sword hilt, and his foot was coming back towards her again.

She grunted and rolled over, too weak to even attempt to crawl for the relative freedom of the open cell door.

"This one's still alive," he said with a sneer.

A second figure leaned in. "Not for much longer, by the look of her."

"Do we want to bother moving her?" the first guard asked.

The second guard shrugged. "Why bother. If she isn't dead when they start tearing this building down, she will be when the roof falls in." He smiled wickedly.

The two men exited the cell and drew the door closed with a nail biting screech and a clank.

"Don't worry about it," The first guard said to her. "It'll all be over in a couple of days."

He kicked a few pebbles and dirt into the cell at her and turned away.

On the way out, they removed the last of the flickering torches. She watched as the shadows of the guards and the last of her light vanished up the long, narrow steps, and then there was a thunderous boom as the door shut, sealing her in absolute blackness.

The terror that accompanied it fed enough fire in her for her to scream. They emerged as weak impotent sounds that vanished almost as soon as they left her lips. Then she collapsed in a heap on the filthy stone.

When she woke up again, she wasn't sure that she had. The inky darkness was absolute and only the memory of the cell walls and door conveyed any sense of confinement.

She sat up and looked about, not sure why she even bothered. Still there was something in her mind that told her she was not alone in this horrible blackness.

"Who's there?" she croaked.

"My, my," A soft male voice echoed around her. "Look how the mighty have fallen."

A soft blue illumination appeared somewhere before her, driving the darkness back and revealing the ominous stone walls again. In a fright, she backed herself into a corner, hugging her knees to her chest. Her eyes went wide with terror.

The blue light flared up and resolved itself into the shape of a tall figure with long dark hair and deep, thoughtful brown eyes. He was young, in his thirties, with a wicked scar criss crossing his left eye. He wore a long dark coat or cloak, dark pants, boots and a pale shirt. Fingerless gloves covered his hands, and a silver buckle gleamed from the belt on his waist.

Her eyes widened in recognition. "You!"

David stepped back against the opposite wall and crouched down. One gloved finger stroked the whiskers of his goatee thoughtfully, and he smiled. "Hello, Hope."

"I killed you!" Hope gasped. "I saw you die!"

David nodded and smiled. "Yup, you did."

"But," Hope stammered but her words failed her.

"You ran me through," David said with an air of menace. "Stuck me like a pig and bled me out. And yet, here you are, screaming for help. So, tell me, who do you think really won our little duel?"

"Why are you here?" Hope finally managed to ask.

"You called me," David replied easily. "Nice work, by the way, popping into my house like that. I didn't think you had it left in you."

"That was you?" she asked in amazement.

David shrugged. "So, what do you want?"

Hope's momentary dream of freedom crumbled as she stared at him. He must have read it in her expression because that intolerable smile spread on his face again.

"What? Out? Freedom?" He asked with a chuckle. "And what, pray tell, would you do if you got out of here?"

"I don't know," she replied before she had a chance to think about it.

"If you're considering a reevaluation of your path in life, I wouldn't say it wasn't long overdue," David said sternly. "I would also say that I wouldn't really think you were sincere, so don't even try that approach."

She looked at him, and a touch of the old scorn appeared and then just as quickly it vanished again.

"Let me explain life to you, once," David continued. "Dahok and his religion are dead. His followers are scattered and little more than a nusance. You couldn't reunify them if you wanted to, because you've been cut off from him for the rest of your natural. Besides, someone would probably pick you off before you even got the chance."

"You'd like that, wouldn't you." Hope said with certainty.

His answer surprised her.

"What would be the point?" He said. "I already beat you. Why rub salt in the wound?"

"Beat me?" Hope smiled. "You fell, remember?"

"Yeah," David nodded. "And here's the juicy bit. You took me away from your mother, and your family, here and now. But you know what? I'm still with your mother, and we're living a very happy, very comfortable life where we are. Your step brother and step sister are alive and well, and your mother survived, so, you pretty much blew it on all fronts. You won a small skirmish, sweetie, but you lost the war."

"So you're here to gloat," Hope growled.

"Hey!" David replied sharply. "You killed me, remember? I think I'm entitled."

Then his gaze softened and he let a deep breath out.

"But, that isn't really the reason I came to you," he continued. "Someone called for help, and I was honor bound to answer, because not everyone can."

A grim laugh escaped her cracked lips. "What kind of help can you give me? Can you end my life?"

David shook his head. "Sorry, can't do that."

"Can you get me out of here?" Hope continued.

Again David shook his head. "If you had given me half a chance, when I was around, I would have loved you like a daughter. So would Alex and Xena. Your mother never stopped loving you, in spite of everything you did."

"If you just hadn't listened to that bellowing moron in your head, you might have realized that a long time ago."

"She didn't?" Hope blinked in surprise.

"That was your mom's special gift," David said soberly. "She was able to forgive almost anything. She might have even forgiven you for killing me?"

Hope blinked. Her mind drifted back to a time when she was small, almost frail, in the body of a growing child. She felt soft, reassuring hands stroking her long hair. Even as the coldness of her fathers' voice was repelled by the touch, there was a part of her, the child inside her, that relished that moment. A longing for that gentle sensation cried out from deep inside her soul, now that the tormentous voice of Dahok no longer drove her.

In a sudden flash of understanding, she realized that this simple contact, this comfort was all she desired. She looked up at the apparition before her and saw pity in his eyes.

"Do you truly comprehend how badly you blew it?" he asked her pointedly. "And for what? Absolutely nothing."

"I want to see my mother," she said in a barely audible voice.

David's eyebrow rose in dubious surprise.

"Is that so wrong?" Hope asked suddenly vehement again.

"Considering the few times you tried to kill her," David retorted. "I think you could understand my concern."

She fixed him with as dark a stare as she could, given the circumstances. Unfortunately, he was unimpressed. He merely smiled again and shook his head.

"You're hardly in a position to intimidate anyone, let alone someone like me."

Her eyes fell to the slimy stone floor.

"I don't want to die," she mumbled.

"Sorry?" David said with sudden sharpness. "What was that?"

She looked back up at him. "I don't want to die," she repeated.

"Uh huh," David's gaze went dark. "Let run something past you. Sindis, Yania, Rasten, Antonia, Kitia, Lauron, Salius, Timitus," He recited the names mercilessly.

Each name was like a lash that bit into her soul. She felt a palpable pain with each one. She winced as the recitation continued through countless names from her past. The names continued rolling off his lips like venom. She closed here eyes and tried to shut out his voice and the images that it brought up. Her hands clapped to the sides of her head, trying to stem the flow of names and faces.

"Stop it!" she finally cried out hoarsely.

"Do you think any of them wanted to die, when you killed them?" David asked her.

When she didn't look back up at him, he came forward and knelt before her, his face inches from her head.

"Well?"

She looked up and into his dark eyes and suddenly saw the pain and horror she had wielded so freely, going all the way back to the very first time she killed.

David's fiery gaze softened again and he gently placed a hand against her cheek.

"The bitch of it is," he sighed. "There is so much of your mother in you."

His hand felt warm and comforting and she relaxed, almost reveling in the sensation of a gentle touch. In a flash, she realized what she had thrown away. It was the most despondent moment of her entire existence.

Suddenly, the incarceration, rapes, and torture she had endured in that horrible place were nothing compared to the knowledge of what she had lost.

There was a sudden booming above them and the entire building shuddered. Small pebbles fell from the ceiling, pelting her.

David looked up at the ceiling and nodded. Then his eyes scanned the surrounding cell and he nodded again.

"Looks like the demolition crew is here," he sighed.

Another booming, closer this time, and the debris falling from the ceiling was a bit larger. She felt the ground shaking beneath her as the rumble of falling rubble echoed above her. "I think you're right where you should be."

Tears filled her eyes and she began to weep as something akin to panic set in.

Her hands covered her head and she cowered in the corner, shielding herself from the crushing inevitable onslaught she knew was to come. It was only a matter of time before one of those impacts would send tons of stone down upon her, ending her life and entombing her.

Then something settled around her. Something warm and unfamiliar. She peeked up as she felt strong arms encircling her shoulders. He slid into the corner with her, pulling her to his chest, and shielding her with his ethereal body. She felt him, as a real person, not an apparition.

Her head fell against his chest and she looked in the direction of the crumbling walls.

Another rumble as another section of the structure above fell and she screamed in horror as several of the larger stones across from her cell fell into the cramped corridor. With each thunderous boom, she jumped and cried out.

"It's alright baby," David's voice whispered in her ear. "It's going to be alright."

With each impact, she tried to drive herself deeper into that comforting warmth, as if that would offer some form of protection from the avalanche. Then she heard his voice again, singing a slow, soft, soothing tune, barely audible, like a lullaby.

The corridor across fell in and she saw the body of the old man crushed beneath the rocks with a sickening crunch of pulverized bones.

She drew her knees in tighter and felt his hand avert her eyes, pressing them against his chest. She clawed at his vest with bruised and broken fingers, sobbing, and shut here eyes.

The universe shook suddenly, and she heard booming thunder of rocks around her. Then there was a sudden pause and the sound of distant voices. The world behind her eyelids went red. Dust choked the air from her lungs.

She opened her eyes, blinking against the sudden burst of yellow light. Looking up, she saw a long rough corridor. She was wedged in a small space, surrounded by grating crumbling stone, but she was alive.

The crevice was narrow, small, and seemed to stretch for an eternity. Above her, she could hear hammering as the men continued to dismantle the building above her.

She could cry out for help. Maybe they would hear her, but when she opened her mouth, the dusty air choked her voice, and her cry for help was little more than a coughing wheeze.

Reaching up, her fingers found a handhold, and she squeezed herself into the narrow gap, clawing like an insect towards the light above. The stones around her shifted and groaned as she desperately pulled herself forward.

Sharp edges cut into her arms and legs. It was like forcing her way up the throat of some ancient beast. She felt her blood flowing and the stones cut always deeper into her skin. It shredded the dirty rags covering her body, catching on hooks of stone, as if this prison, even in death, was desperately trying to bring her to the Underworld with it.

She reached forward, always forward, feeling her desperation grow with every shudder as stone above her shifted and moved.

A large piece suddenly fell inward across her outstretched left arm. She saw the impact, felt the bones of her forearm snap. The pain was like a burst of fire, shooting through the extremity and setting her mind alight.

She wailed in horror as the stone rolled against her shoulder, partially blocking the passage.

Suddenly, the tunnel behind her fell in with a crash, and a cloud of dust wafted up the tunnel engulfing her. She felt her lungs burning from lack of clean air, saw the light above fade in a cloud of pale gray.

"No!" her mind wailed. "Not like this! Not this close!"

Hugging her broken arm against her body, she reached out with her good hand and hauled herself through the narrow opening and towards the world of light and air.

The rags clothing her, snagged on the stone and she felt them ripping as she continued clawing upward. Each movement a new exploration in pain and terror.

With a last surge of failing strength she saw the world open around her as she emerged in the dusty sunlight.

She rolled down the gentle pile of rubble, not even feeling the teeth of stone as they jabbed into her back and sides. When she finally came to a halt, she looked up and saw the remains of the prison. The entire outer wall had already been demolished, and only two of the original four towers still stood.

As she watched, one of those towers seemed to slide towards her before it began shatter. The rumble and the dust rushed towards her like a choking brown cloud.

Hope scrambled down a muddy gully and into the stagnant water as the cloud settled over her. Stones rained down around her a she bobbed in the filth, gasping for breath between horrified sobs.

When the cloud began to settle, she saw the massive pile of stones covering her escape route.

The rumble died, revealing the sound of voices approaching from behind the hill of stone.

The panic quickly overrode the horror as the possibility of being caught filled her mind.

She splashed across the mucky water and towards the concealment of nearby rushes.

Stifling a scream as she fell on her broken arm, she saw the outline of several bodies standing at the top of the rubble

"What was that?" A voice said.

"What?" A second replied.

She turned and looked back through the reeds with wide eyes.

"I thought I saw something," The first voice continued. She saw one of the figures point towards her hiding place. "Over there."

Hope held her breath.

"Did you see what it was?" The second voice asked.

The first one shook his head. "Looked like something crawled out of the moat and onto the bank, just there."

The second figure seemed to consider for a moment and then shrugged.

"Old dungeon was full of critters and the like. Chances are it was something like that, running from the ruins." The second one said after a moment that seemed like a small eternity. "Come on. We have stone to move."

The sobs welled up as the figures withdrew. Her face settled against the muddy earth and she knew no more.

It was the burning pain in her broken arm that dragged her back from the darkness of a dreamless sleep. The sun had fallen and the night creatures sang all around her. Slowly, she raised herself up rolled over, her eyes fixing on the myriad of sparkling stars above her. It wasn't until that very moment that she truly realized she was free. She wept again, as much from the pain in her limbs as from that sudden understanding. She was weak, in pain, and weary beyond reason, but she was free.

"_I think you're right where you should be."_

That statement resonated in her mind with sudden realization. The comforting warmth that had surrounded her as he had knelt next to her and held her, as much to comfort her from her impending doom, as to hold her in precisely the right place for her to gain the opportunity for that escape. He had known how the rock would fall. He might have even exerted some force to shield her from the rock fall.

Even after all that she had done to him. All the pain she had dealt to his family, his home, all the friends that she had taken from him, he had still protected her as a father would. He had given her a second chance.

"I got a weak spot for blondes," his voice broke through her reverie. She turned her head and saw the familiar blue corona as it resolved back into his form. David smiled ruefully. "Call it a character flaw."

"Thank you," she whispered.

His eyebrows rose in mild surprise. "Wow. That actually sounded sincere. Maybe this was the right choice."

She closed her eyes and felt the cool night air fill her lungs. When she looked back at him, his expression was thoughtful.

"Then again," he continued. "Maybe I've only put you in a worse position."

When she only turned her gaze back to the stars above, he went on.

"You have to realize," David explained. "That you succeeded in pissing off a boatload of people. If they find out you're on the outside, you can bet your ass that they'll be gunning for you. And they probably won't be quick or gentle about it if they catch you."

When she didn't respond, he sighed.

"Well," he continued. "At least, I wouldn't hang about here for much longer."

"So tired," she mumbled. Her eyes fluttered even as she winced at the pain in her limb.

"You need to get moving," David suggested.

He saw her eyes close, and when they didn't open after a few seconds, he clapped his hands together loudly.

"Hey!"

Her eyes snapped back open.

"You need to get moving!" There was a fire in his voice that frightened her.

She looked over at him. "I don't have anywhere to go," she finally admitted.

He rose and looked down at her.

"I think you do."

He drew out a small roll of tobacco and set it in his teeth. It smoldered to life and he puffed a few times. The scent of the tobacco settled around her, acrid and sweet at the same time. Then David looked down at a small device wrapped around his wrist and his eyebrows rose.

"Well," he sighed. "I got a thing. Time for me to bolt."

"Don't leave," Hope asked, almost begging. "Please."

"Don't have a choice, sweetie," He replied. "This isn't my home any more. And if I'm gone too long, you're mom will kick my ass when I get back, and make me like it." He smiled.

He stepped over her and began strolling in the direction of the nearby woods.

She struggled to her feet, trying to ignore the pain in her arm.

"But there are so many things I want to know," Hope called after him. "So many things I don't understand."

He turned, walking backwards and grinning like the father of mischief.

"Shit!" he chuckled. "You'll have to learn all that from someone else. I'm probably more screwed in the head than you are.""

He stretched his hands out and shrugged. "If you really want to know, then you know who you need to talk to. If you do see you're mom, tell her that her favorite pig says oink." He raised his hand, gave her a salute that bordered on comical, and then turned and resumed walking.

"Which way should I go?" Hope called after him, suddenly feeling a twinge of desperate fear at the prospect of being abandoned again.

David raised his hand and made a noncommittal gesture. "You got a whole compass to choose from! Pick a point!"

"Wait!" Hope called after him. She moved to follow him, but he strode easily away and finally vanished in a soft blue coronal flash.

She reached the spot and caught the faint scent of his tobacco, but that was all.

"Wait," she whispered despondently. "I'm sorry." The words came from her mouth, but originated from her heart. When she said them, she suddenly understood that she truly was sorry for what she had done to him. "I wanted to tell you I was sorry."

The tumult of emotion crested again and then fell, like a wave.

"I'm sorry."

"_Better get moving, kiddo," _David's voice seemed to echo from a great distance.

A bone weary smile appeared on her lips as she realized her words had been heard. Perhaps he had even accepted them. The possibility of that seemed to give her some measure of strength.

Cradling her broken arm against her chest and covering her body as best she could with the ragged torn fabric that clothed her. She stumbled off after him and vanished into the woods.

Once she was in the protective concealment of the trees, her fear of discovery lessoned, and with it also went the adrenalin that had kept her alert. She began to feel weak and light headed. She stumbled often and almost tripped several times. Occasionally she would stagger against a tree and reawaken the burning fire in her arm. That would sharpen her senses for a brief time, but the moments of clarity became shorter and shorter the further on she went.

"Must keep going," He mind repeated mechanically. "Must keep going."

Figures began to appear at the periphery of her vision. They were the figures of men, women and children of varying ages, races and colors. All of them seemed to watch her with intent, angry eyes.

Whenever she turned towards them, she instantly recognized them. She knew their names, and she knew where and when she had killed them. They dogged her, never approaching, but always there, like shadowy stalkers. Their voices echoed in her mind, repeating over Andover the litany of names of dead that she had left in her wake, like a trail of blood.

She waved her good hand before her, as if she could wave away the sounds of the countless names that bombarded her mind. Her eyes were turned down at the ground before her feet, and she stumbled and staggered and finally the ground rushed up to meet her as she fell onto the soft, jagged leaves. She forced herself to roll onto her back as the agony of her arm drove her again. Then she lay like a dead thing, driven beyond the realms of human endurance.

It was then that she felt the figures approach, crowding around her like a host of shadowy specters. They all looked down at her with pitiless eyes, covered in blood. Many of them still bore the dismembered bloody injuries she or her followers had inflicted on her, the chorus of names rose to a deafening cacophony in her mind as darkness reached down to enfold her.

"Go away," she tried to cry. "Please go away."

In the haze of her mind, just before the shadows swallowed her completely, she thought she saw another face. This one was new, uninjured, old and wizened with long gray white hair and beard. Steely gray eyes looked down at her in a mixture of surprise and concern.

Feebly she tried to wave him away as well. Was this Death finally coming for her?

"Go away," she tried to cry but only managed to wheeze.

The world bent around her and fell into darkness. From that void, she heard a new sound.

"_Just be still, lassie,"_ it said in a soft, accented voice. _"Old Ian's going to tend you for a spell now."_

Then the shadows engulfed her and the world fell into darkness augmented by wailing voices and dead faces.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

When her eyes opened again, she felt pain. Not the agony of her injury. Her broken arm had been reset and bound in a splint. This time it was a combination of the myriad of cuts and scratches she had received along the way.

She was lying in a bed, covered in a thick blanket. The pillow under her head felt like a cloud, and the soft mat beneath her felt like a piece of heaven.

The rotting, shredded rags she had been wearing were gone and there was a pungent, medicinal smell in the air. Here eyes fluttered open and she saw the various pale spots on her uninjured arm that were the treated remnants of cuts and scrapes.

She looked about her in confusion. The cottage was a small, roughly circular edifice, made of stacked stone, held by a dark mortar of some kind. Thick beams crossed overhead, covered with an interweaving of smaller branches and thatch.

A small fire cackled merrily in the center of the one room structure, driving the moisture from the place.

Her eyes moved around the room. A small table, two rickety looking chairs, two small closed chests, and walking stick leaning against the opening that served as the only door, along with various other odds and ends.

Several pots and pans hung opposite the table and besides them, a bow, quiver of hand hewn arrows, and a sword in an old battered scabbard hanging by a thick leather belt.

Opposite the crackling flames, she saw a second roll of cloth, spread out along the floor, obviously a bed roll.

Something fluttered above her, and she saw a small bird, probably a sparrow, perched among the smaller branches above. It looked down at her, cocked its head and twittered.

She tried to move, and felt her body protest. She was dressed in a simple pale frock, like a night shirt. It was far too large for her, and obviously made for a man, but it felt like silk after the ragged tatters she had been wearing.

The bird twittered again, as if it disproved of her trying to move. She looked up at it again and groaned.

A figure entered through the low door and she immediately recognized the wizened face as the one before the darkness had taken her.

His face brightened when he saw her staring back at him. He removed a long wooden pipe from between his teeth and grinned.

"Well," he said in a soft, fatherly voice. "I was wondering if you'd be taking my bed for much longer, now."

He set the pipe in a small wooden holder and moved to the table.

"Nice to be seeing you awake there, lassie," he continued. He tossed two rabbits onto the table and began cleaning them with practiced ease. "You've been dozing now for about three days after all."

"Who," Hope's voice cracked when she tried to speak.

"Now, now," he replied. "There'll be plenty of time for all that once you've supped."

He finished cleaning the rabbits and set the meat in a shallow pan which he immediately placed over the flames. Then he went to a small pail and dipped a cup, pouring the water over the meat and allowing it to simmer.

He returned and dipped the cup again, bringing it towards her.

"For the moment," he continued conversationally. "My name is Ian, and you are in my house."

She jerked away from him in fright, awakening the pain in her body with fresh flourish. She winced.

Ian halted and stepped back, seating himself in a chair several feet out of reach.

"You've seen some bad times would be my guess," he said sympathetically. His gray eyes softened as he looked at her. He reached over slowly and set the cup of water on a small table next to the bed. "All I can offer you is that nothing untowardly will happen to you whilst you're in my keeping, lassie. You have my word."

She tried to sit herself up, but her body refused to cooperate. Her eyes fixed on the cup with desperate longing, and then she looked at him, seated patiently nearby, watching her intently.

"Let me help you, love," he offered gently.

When she finally nodded, he rose and moved with gentle deliberation. His wrinkled hand slid behind her back and helped her up while the other held the cup to her lips.

"There we are," he said with a soft smile.

She water passed her lips and she coughed suddenly.

"Gently now," Ian said patiently. "Take it gently. You've been out of sorts for a while."

He seemed to be studying her. "What's your name, love?"

"Hope," She managed to choke after a bit.

"Well," he chuckled agreeably. "That sounds promising, doesn't it?"

She eyed him dubiously.

He simply studied her for a few more moments and then helped her lay back down again before going back to the simmering meat on the fire.

She watched him the entire time he worked. He was lean and tall, with skin wrinkled like old leather. His long beard and hair were braided in non local fashion. He wore a batter old tunic and kilt, with fabric that rose up and over his left shoulder, held in place by a large broach.

On his feet were old, beaten boots of sewn animal hide. And a thick belt encircled his waist upon which hung a simple pouch.

He added some herbs from a nearby series of jars and stirred the stew, his eyes only occasionally flicking in her direction.

"Nearly done," he said after a long time in which the only sound was that of the crackling flames and the scraping of his wooded spoon against the metal of the pot.

He turned and retrieved two small wooden bowls from the table and began filling them with the meal, and then he removed a thick cloth from a small woven basket, revealing a single dark loaf of bread.

Ian turned and looked at her, smiling. "Would you like to try and take your supper at the table, then?"

She managed a gentle shrug.

Ian moved over towards her. "Well, you can't be lying in my bed forever now, can you?"

He saw her tense again as he approached and he clicked his tongue a couple of times.

"My, aren't we a bit skittish now?"

He offered his hand to her and smiled.

"It's all right, lassie," he said gently. "There's nothing to be harming you while you're in my home. You have my word."

"Not even you?" The question escaped Hope's lips before she had even a chance to stop it. Instantly she regretted the question. This old man had found her, taken her into his home, and tended her. Now she was repaying that kindness with suspicion.

Instead of being offended, he chuckled.

"Not even a curmudgeonly old bastard like myself," he nodded. The grin behind his braided whiskers was infectious, and before she knew it, she was doing something she had never done before. She was smiling out of pure humor.

Moving awakened all manner of discomfort in her limbs, but she took his hand and allowed Ian to slowly help her to her feet.

She wobbled dangerously when she tried to rise, and his other hand slipped behind her and kept her from falling.

"Steady now," he said quietly. She moved slowly and stiffly towards the table with small, deliberate steps.

As they progressed across the packed earth floor, Ian began to smile that infectious smile again.

"You know, lassie," he offered lightly. "At the pace you're going, the food'll be cold by the time we reach it."

Again, she felt that flush of humor wash through her like a cleansing rain. She smiled in spite of the discomfort and tried to move as little faster.

They finally reached the table, and Ian let her settle gently onto the chair before moving to his own.

Hope reached for the bowl and pause when she saw her hands. She turned them over and saw the lines from the cuts on her palms, her scars from her crawl out of the darkness. She seemed to fixate on them, seeing all that suffering afresh within those injuries.

"Stone cuts," Ian offered. "You're arms and legs were covered with them."

He tore a chunk of bread from the loaf and extended it to her.

She accepted the bread and dipped it into the broth.

"Stuck in a quarry, were you?" He asked.

Hope saw the curiosity in his eyes, but no threat. Still, she wasn't about to open up to this strange old man just yet.

"Something like that," she dodged.

Ian nodded and focused on his own meal for a bit.

"Were you one of the people they had tearing that old prison down then?" he went on after a few bites.

She froze, suddenly afraid that he might know the truth. When she looked up into his face again, he merely shook his head.

"Just trying to make conversation, love," he said. "I don't need to know anything you have a mind to keep to yourself. I was just curious as to how you wound up in my forest is all."

"Long story," Hope said.

Ian took another spoonful of his broth and smiled.

"Perhaps you'll share it with me, one day?"

"I'd just as soon forget about it," Hope answered.

Ian chewed on the bread thoughtfully for a moment, his steely eyes studying the girl across from him. A slow, good humored smile began to spread behind his thick whiskers.

Hope endured his scrutiny for as long a she could. Then she set the spoon down on the table and looked back at him.

"What?"

Ian chuckled. "Oh, nothing of importance, Love. I'm just filled with questions and looking to fine my own answers until you feel comfortable enough to tell me your tale. That's all."

She looked at him and saw, in his eyes, a deeper wisdom or understanding than she had first anticipated. It was as if he held in his mind a secret, perhaps her secret, and he was merely waiting until she voiced it before he would let the knowledge out.

"How did you find me, anyway?" Hope asked suddenly.

"What do you mean?" Ian countered easily.

"The forest is huge," Hope pressed. "And you just happened to stumble across me at the right moment?"

Ian put a hand under his chin and nodded. "Just lucky, I suppose."

Hope looked him in the eye. There was almost an accusing tone in her voice when she spoke.

"I don't believe you."

Once again, the old man was unphased by her accusation. "That's your choice, Love. I can only tell you what is, not what you want to hear. And the fact is, I stumbled across you on my way back to my home after a decent day of hunting rabbits in the woods. If there's more to it than that, it is for you to discover."

Then his eyes took on a mischievous twinkle and he leaned forward.

"What else would have put you in my forest at just the right time for me to come blundering by and find you, eh?"

Hope opened her mouth, but no words came out. Then she remembered the figure of her last victim walking nonchalantly in the direction of the woods.

"_You got a whole compass to choose from! Pick a point!"_

The coldness left her gaze and she sighed with the realization that David had done more for her than she had realized. She smiled in spite of herself.

First, he had appeared before her and kept her in precisely the right position to affect an escape from her cell, and then, he had moved off in the direction that she needed to travel in order to bring her to the limits of her failing strength, just at the right time for Ian to happen across her, lying in a fevered stupor in the forest.

"He knew I'd follow after him," she breathed in sudden realization.

"He? Who, Love?" Ian asked casually.

Hope's smile faded as she began to realize just what she had arbitrarily destroyed.

"David," she said in a barely audible whisper.

"Ah," And who is that then? Brother? Husband?" Ian pressed. "Should I be out looking for him as well?"

The words were spoken with feigned urgency, and the old man did not move to rise from his seat.

Hope looked up at him and her eyes narrowed as she studied him again. He merely smiled that damned knowing smile and nodded.

"You've been sleeping in a fever for three days, Love," he offered. "And you've been talking while you slept."

Ian shrugged. "You were already dreaming when I found you. You kept telling someone to go away."

Then he picked up her spoon and handed it back to her. "You're food is getting cold."

Dread blocked the hunger in Hope's belly.

How much did the old man already know? How much had her fevered sleep betrayed about whom she really was and what she had done? What would this old man do if he learned everything?"

Ian saw the fear and question on her face and he sighed, setting down his spoon and taking a drink from his cup.

"Go ahead and ask me, Lassie," he prompted her.

Instead, she forced herself to stand up, ignoring the protest in her limbs.

"I have to get out of here," she said in a fright. She tried to turn towards the door, but her body ignored her request, and she fell forward to the hard packed earth. The fire shot up her healing arm and she cried out in pain.

Ian moved quickly to her side and helped her turn back over. She looked into his eyes and saw the genuine caring there.

"You aren't in any condition to go beyond this house at present," he offered gently. "You need time to rest and heal. Both body and spirit it would seem."

The rest and the food had returned some of her strength to her. It was just enough for her to begin weeping again. The despair was as much from the reawakened pain in her injuries as it was from the realization that she did not deserve this old man's charity. How many others like this man had she indiscriminately killed? How many like Ian? How many like David, or her mother, had she snuffed out without so much as a second thought? How many husbands, brothers, sisters, sons, daughters, fathers, and on and on in an endless circle of blood and slaughter?

She felt the old, strong hands of the man gather her to him, like a frightened child who has awakened from a nightmare.

"Everything will be better tomorrow, Love," he whispered. "I think you've done more than what's good for you for one day."

With surprising ease, he lifted her from the floor and carried her back to the bed.

"You should have left me there to die," she whispered in despair.

"What?" Ian asked as he checked her arm and other injuries. "A fine, lovely lady such as yourself? I wouldn't hear of it." He smiled again.

Even as the wave of sorrow flowed over her, she felt the weariness return and she slowly closed her eyes, drifting back into sleep.

_The temple was a massive edifice of dark gray stone, like an extension of the shadows rising from the earth. The lands beyond it were desolate and cracked form lack of water, stretching out to infinity. White bolts of lightning arced across a burnt sky and thunder rolled unceasingly from the heavens. Wind blew hot and dry across the barren plain, making her long blonde hair writhe like something alive, and her dress fluttered about her body. _

_Without knowing why, her feet began taking her towards the temple. Dread began to fill her belly, creeping like an icy spider up her spine._

_The two guards at the entrance bowed their heads in reverence as she approached. They gestured for her to enter. Against her will, her feet propelled her into the place, where she beheld the remains of victims, lying in the corridors, or strung up by chains on the walls._

"_No," her mind screamed in horror._

_The deep rhythmic booming of drums rolled from the main chamber, and she could see the flicker of torchlight, bright and red, at the end of the corridor._

_She stepped into the room and found herself standing on a raised platform, looking down as throngs of people danced madly on the smooth stone floor._

_On either side, large drums lined the side of the room, with men beating fanatically upon them in dreadful, driving rhythms, pushing the crowd to a frenzy of action._

_That was when she began to see the weapons in their hands. Even the children bore knives of some kind. The horror in her belly built to a full blown terror._

"_No," she breathed. She recognized many of the faces in that throng. They were the faces of those people that she had killed. The room was packed with the victims of her rampages throughout the lands._

_In one body, they all looked at her with fanatical revelation._

_AT the front of the room, a tall, proud young Amazon woman stopped dancing and looked up at her, smiling with insane pride._

_She raised her dagger above her head and nodded once._

_Hope shook her head desperately, but there was no stopping this moment._

"_Alia!" Hope begged. "Don't! Please!"_

_Alia looked back up at her with eyes as cold as mountain snow._

"_For you," she said. Then she turned and slashed the blade of her weapon across the nearest dancer's throat._

_Hope turned away as the blood splattered across the white fabric of her dress. She felt it stain her arms and face. When she looked back, the room was a slaughter house. People descended on one another, stabbing and slashing in a frenzy of bloodlust. Parents slaughtered children and then themselves. The drummers flung themselves on drawn swords. The smooth pale stone floor was awash in blood._

_The blood showered over her like thick, warm rain as she flailed about, trying to get the massacre to cease. Finally the movement of the room abated and everything fell still._

_Blood flowed in rivulets from the columns, or dripped from the furniture. In the middle of the room was a single, small figure. A boy, no more than ten years old, was stooping to retrieve something from the blood that was ankle deep in the room._

_He turned his reddened face to her as he stood up, holding a long, triangular blade in his small hands. _

_Then he smiled the most heartrending, innocent smile that she had ever seen._

"_For you," he said in a soft, melodic voce, and he turned the weapon in his hands and pointed it at his belly._

"_No!" Hope cried out in panic. She launched herself toward the boy in a desperate attempt to stop him, but she was to far away. The weapon plunged into the small body and he fell in a heap amongst the slaughter._

_Hope slipped and fell in the middle of the carnage, coming up covered in the red sticky mass of death._

_She got to her knees and saw the blood covering her arms and body. Its heavy, coppery scent flooded her nostrils._

_Panic constricted around her heart and she cried out in horror as she turned and fled._

_She made it to the corridor and stumbled towards the entrance. She had to get out of this horror. She had to get away from all of this death._

_She slipped and fell as she rounded the last turn out into the world beyond and her eyes locked on one of the two guards, lying impaled by a spear. His pale eyes stared back at her, his expression one of child like curiosity._

_The sobs began as revulsion and then expanded into grief that wracked her soul. This carnage was her legacy. She got her feet beneath her and rose, looking down at the last two bloody remnants of her rule, then she turned to run and felt herself vanish beneath roiling dark water. _

_In a panic, she turned and clawed her way back to the steps, hauling her drenched body onto the cold stone. When she looked down at herself, all she saw was red. _

_Blood covered her body and clothing, dripping from her hair. Her eyes turned and beheld the final horror. The barren land was gone. The lighting shocked the blackened clouds and revealed a sea of red stretching out beyond sight to a dark horizon._

_She was lost on a mutilated island, adrift on a crimson sea, alone for all eternity._

_Turning back, she saw the two guards standing, once again at their places. She heard the drums booming from within._

_Turning back, she saw the crimson sea and realized where she was. This was her little corner of Hell. Her torment was like the torment of Tantalus, who could never drink, though he is surrounded by water. She could never leave this place. The carnage would follow her soul from here to the ends of the world and beyond._

_The scream began somewhere in the bowels of her being, rising like a wave until it broke from her throat in a long, agonizing cry of fear and despair. It wailed from her mouth and echoed beyond the dark and stormy sky up into infinity…_

Hope sat up in the bed screaming in terror. For a brief instant she couldn't remember where she was. Her eyes looked back and forth at the darkened cottage as recognition slowly settled back in.

Ian's strong hands came down gently on her shoulders and she fell back to weeping quietly.

"The same dream again, Love?" he asked in his usual gentle tone.

"Nightmare," Hope corrected him when the emotion had faded.

Ian stepped back and seated himself in one of the old rickety chairs nearby.

"Why is it that you won't tell me about it, Hope, darling?" he asked as he lifted his pipe from its stand and began filling it.

"It's just a nightmare," Hope shivered.

Ian looked at her skeptically. "Love, where I come from, a dream that happens more than a few times is more akin to a calling. And your dream has been coming to you for nigh on two months?"

Hope smiled grimly. "Ian, where you come from, men wear dresses."

One gray eyebrow rose critically. "It's called a kilt, love. And don't be judging other people based on their appearance. You might be fancifully surprised if you do."

He removed a long narrow stick from the fading fire and lit the pipe, puffing experimentally until the tobacco caught. In the fading embers of the fire, the smoke about his head gave his countenance a sorcerous look. His gray eyes locked on Hope the way they always did when he was adding another little piece to his two month old puzzle.

"I'll make a bargain with you," He offered suddenly. "You tell me what these faces are that you keep seeing in your dreams, and I'll tell you how it was that I found you in the forest that day."

"How you?" Hope stammered, her shock was a mixture of curiosity at his words and surprised at his supposition.

Ian smiled behind his whiskers and nodded. "You first lassie," he said.

Hope looked at him for a long moment. One part of her desperately wanted to tell him about everything she had done. And still, another part of her was dreadfully afraid that, if she did confess all, she might lose the first and only friend that she had ever known. It was something that she feared more than anything she had ever known in her long existence. The fact that she actually understood that was a revelation in itself. She had never had anyone that she had considered a friend before. In her past, the people around her had always been tools, used towards her purposes. She had never taken the time to actually speak to them or try and know or understand them. They had been instruments to remove other people, whom she had considered hindrances in her quest for Dahok's world domination.

Now she sat across from the first friend she had ever known and feared that she might lose him.

"Well?" Ian asked.

One of the things that Ian had been teaching her about over the last two months of her recovery had been about truth and consequences.

He always told her that she should not be afraid of the truth, and accept the consequences of her actions. Even when the truth would have unpleasant consequences.

Now, one big truth might have the most dreadful of consequences. She did not want to be alone again. She had gotten used to having someone to speak with, even though she had guarded everything she had said for fear of losing him.

She closed her eyes. Instantly, the faces from her nightmare began to reassert themselves with bloody clarity.

"They're people," she forced herself to say.

"People that you've known?" She heard Ian ask.

She looked up at him, sitting at ease, with his pipe in his hand and a calm, expectant expression. Somehow she realized that what she might be about to say would not be that large a revelation for the old man.

She took a deep breath.

"People I've killed," she said quickly. "Or people whose deaths I am responsible for."

She watched as Ian seemed to consider that. His expression did not change, except perhaps, to become more thoughtfully curious.

"Been a fair amount, I'd say?" he continued.

She nodded.

"How many?" Ian asked.

Hope shrugged helplessly. "I don't know. Hundreds, thousands, I don't really know." She heard the emotion in her voice as she realized just how indiscriminant she had been in doling out death.

Again, Ian made no move. He simply sat there and puffed on his pipe thoughtfully.

She looked into his eyes and when she saw no imminent threat, the floodgates opened and her bloody tale spilled out between fits of emotion and tears.

Throughout the whole, long, bloody confession, Ian simply sat composed, smoking his pipe. His expression was one of complete neutrality.

Finally, after what seemed a short eternity, Hope fell silent, sitting with her hands on her lap and tears in her eyes as she waited for whatever admonishment might be forthcoming.

When Ian didn't say anything for a long time, she looked at him. His eyes bored into hers, as if he were searching for any little detail that she might have omitted.

"Well," he managed to say after a few moments of thought. "That's a fair bit, and no mistake."

"I won't be angry if you ask me to leave," Hope offered as she saw the saddened look on the old man's face.

When he made no reply, she rose and, without bothering to put on the boots that Ian had made for her, headed for the door.

"You know," Ian said suddenly. "You're right. You should be on your way."

Hope winced at those words. They bit into her heart more than anything she had ever endured.

She took another deep breath and resumed moving towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Ian called after her.

She frowned and turned back to look at him. "But, you said I should be on my way?"

"Indeed," Ian nodded, that gentle smile reasserting itself. "But I didn't say you should be leaving just now, did I?"

He smiled and then rolled his eyes theatrically. "Glory be child! What are you daft, walking out in the cold in naught but a sleeping gown and barefoot? I would have thought you'd have the sense to stay till we had time to get you set up proper for a journey!" He raised his hands to the sky. "Ah the children these days, always so damned impatient to be moving on!"

When he looked back at her, her heart was pounding with anxiety. Then she saw the smile begin to spread on his face and she realized that she was not being cast out. He stood there with his arms out, as if waiting for something.

She stepped back next him and felt his arms enfold her.

"See Love?" he offered. "I know it hurt, but it wasn't so bad."

"Wasn't so bad?" Hope asked, suddenly realizing that she was crying again, this time with relief.

Ian led her to his chair and sat her down in it, crouching down to look her in the eye.

"The tale you just told me," he began. "The person responsible for all that pain? She isn't here anymore. She died in that prison, Lord knows how long ago."

She frowned.

"The lovely lass sitting before me right here, in this very moment," Ian said pointedly. "Is a different person from the one that did all those terrible things. When I see Hope sitting in my chair. I see the fine young lass that stumbled into my forest two months ago, full of piss and wind, yes, but not a monster."

"But it was me, Ian," Hope protested.

"I'm not saying that you have nothing to atone for," Ian corrected himself quickly. "You've shed a fair share of blood, and not in a just cause. That'll weigh on your soul for the rest of your days."

"What I am saying, Love," he continued. "Is that you're a better person for all your horror, and you're ready to make amends."

"How do I make amends for all those dead?" Hope asked helplessly. "I don't even know where to start!"

Ian looked her in the eye and a knowing smile grew again. "I think you do, Love."

Dawning appeared in that moment and then Hope's eyes widened in fear.

"Oh no!" she shook her head vehemently. "I can't go back there! Ian, I killed her husband! Destroyed her home!"

Ian's strong hands settled on her shoulders as the panic increased.

"I wouldn't know where to even start!" She continued. "And Xena! She nearly killed me the first time around! I wouldn't blame her if she finished the job this time!"

"Hush," Ian said gently but firmly.

She stopped and looked at him with an expression of childish fear.

"You have to, Love," he pressed. She shook her head.

"Hope," Ian continued. "You have to start somewhere, and you might as well start where you finished the last time. You need to start finding your peace again, and granting it to the others."

She looked down at the earth, her mind a blur of thought. In her ears, she could almost hear them screaming at her again.

She saw David's face, as a middle aged man now, looking up at her with that ferocious grin, just before the power surged through her, changing her existence forever. Everything she was had been wiped clean in that one brutal exchange. She felt the blade of his katana piercing her flesh, saw her blade protruding from his chest, and still he grinned, even as the blood began to flow.

"_Gotcha!"_

She blinked and started.

"Ian?" she asked in a quiet voice.

He came back and handed a cup to her.

"Do they ever go away?"

"Does who go away, Love?" Ian asked.

"The faces," Hope continued. "Do they ever go away?"

She looked up at him hopefully.

He smiled sympathetically and shook his head.

"No, Love. They never go away," he offered. "But if you give yourself time. You'll learn to be friends with them."

"I'm scared, Ian," Hope finally admitted. "I've been scared ever since I got out of that prison."

"I never told you that it would be easy, Hope," Ian replied. "The important things seldom are."

It took several more days before the resolve finally solidified enough for her to consider leaving, but in the end. She awakened one morning early and gathered her strength to leave. She tip toed past Ian, who lay asleep in his bed roll, and quickly dressed in a simple tunic, skirt, and the hide boots that he had made for her.

As she adjusted the simple leather belt about her waist, a noise startled her and she spun around to find Ian standing beside his blanket with a knowing smile on his face.

"I figured it was about that time," He nodded. "I was wondering how much longer you would take?"

"I," Hope stammered. "I didn't want to say goodbye. I thought, well,"

"I understand," Ian replied. He stepped around the embers of the fire and grabbed his walking stick and dagger. Turning he handed them to her.

"I think these will help you on your way," he offered. "And you come by and see me whenever you get the chance. My home will always be open to you."

She took the long straight oak staff and the small silver dagger and looked at him.

"I don't know what to say," she confessed.

"Then don't say anything, Love," he smiled. He leaned forward and kissed her on the forehead. "It's enough for me to know that you're stepfather did right by sending you my way."

She smiled and nodded. Then she grabbed her small bag and slung it over her shoulder and stepped towards the door.

When she reached it, she paused and looked back at him.

"I never told you he was my stepfather," she said, looking at him intently.

"That's right," Ian nodded, smiling as he seated himself at the table. "You didn't. But he did introduce you to me as his stepdaughter, just before he told me where you would be found."

"He told you?" Hope asked in amazement. "David told you?"

Ian chuckled softly and gave her a sly smile. "You didn't think I was completely taken unawares by everything you told me, did you? We Druids are a tight knit clan, after all."

"You?" Hope wasn't sure if she should be relieved or angered by the revelation.

"Now," Ian said kindly. "I'm a might bit tired, and I think I'll have a sleep in my own bed, if you don't mind? Go on now, lassie."

She opened her mouth to speak, but couldn't find the words. In the end, she only smiled, choking back the emotion which was still so new to her. With a nod, she ducked out of the house and vanished.

The forest was thick around her. The soft leaves crunched under her feet. Mists carried the scent of moisture to her nostrils as she gazed about at the pale light of dawn. The trees were like gnarled old men, gathering around her, with hands stretched up to greet the coming day.

She strode away from the house, feeling each step as a weight in her boots and on her heart.

"Peace be your companion on your road, Hope, darling," Ian's voice called after her. She smiled and turned to wave a final farewell.

Her eyes widened in surprise when she saw the house behind her. It was in ruins. The thatch roof had long ago fallen in, and the rough ring of stones that emerged from the earth was loose and broken in many places.

She ran back to the home, a new wave of fear washing over her.

"Ian!" she cried out.

She reached the entrance and found it covered by the rotting broken timbers of the fallen roof. The entire place was overgrown and neglected as if no one had dwelled here for many years. In a panic, she began hurtling chunks of rotting timber out of her way, or stomping through the softer decomposed bits until she reached the spot where the table had stood.

She looked around frantically for a few moments and then continued clawing her way further around toward where the bed had been.

She lifted a large portion of the brownish thatch that had been the roof and then stopped when she saw what lay beyond.

The bed still rested where it had, and the dusty skeletal remains lay peacefully on the moldering mattress. Wisps of gray hair still clung to the skull, drifting gently like cobwebs. She looked down at the scene and something soft seemed to fall over her. She smiled even as she felt her tears beginning again.

"Well," she said to the corpse. "At least you got to sleep in your bed again."

She reached back and pulled the section of thatch that she had just removed, pulling it back to replace it where it was. She paused for one last moment and smiled.

"Good bye, Ian," she said. "Thank you."

She let the covering fall back into place, turned and began heading out into the forest, a strange smile on her lips and a myriad of thoughts, most filled with completely new and alien emotions, running through her mind.


	4. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

The dew hung from the early morning leaves like pearlescent crystals, here and there dripping to the forest floor as the two horses trod in rhythm down the well worn path.

One horse was a pale, almost cream color, while the other was a deep chestnut.

The riders were equally different. On the chestnut mare was an older woman, her once blonde hair turned to a soft silver gray with the passing of years. Her green eyes were clear and sharp. Her wrinkled hands held the reigns casually, with practiced ease. She was dressed plainly, in a simple long traveling tunic, breaches, and simple hide boots.

A large traveling bag hung at her side. Protruding from it were two sealed scrolls. She had a wistful, reminiscent expression on her wizened face, and her head nodded gently in time with the movement of her horse.

By contrast, he traveling companion was younger, tall and proud, with raven black hair and piercing pale blue eyes which seemed to take in the surroundings easily, always on the alert for any threat.

The steel buckles on her black boots shone like silver in the wet morning, and her tough black bodice gleamed in the rising sun. About her waist hung a thick leather skirt, pleated and studded with steel. On her belt hung her belongings, a sword in a well tended scabbard and a circular weapon, silver and filigreed in gold. She looked over at the old woman and smiled.

"You know," she offered. "We didn't have to start off so early today."

When the elder woman was slow to answer, she leaned a bit closer.

"Mom?" she asked. "Are you here?"

"Hm?" Gabrielle blinked and looked at her daughter. "Oh, that's alright. I wanted to get to the house early today, just to see how things are holding up."

The younger woman eyed her mother closely.

"Xena?" Gabrielle asked with a smile. "I know that look. What are you thinking?"

Xena looked back towards the end of the path and sighed.

"Nothing," she said easily. "Just making sure you aren't going to fall off the horse. That's all."

In actuality, Xena thought her mother looked more careworn and tired than usual. A twinge of concern tugged at her heart. Gabrielle had not been looking well for several months now, and it seemed that there was something within her that was slowly fading away. In the two years since that fateful day, when David had been taken from them, Gabrielle had slowly been sinking back into melancholy, though she tried her best to hide it.

Gabrielle sighed. "Okay, you. Out with it."

Xena sighed in return. "I'm just worried about you, that's all. You haven't been yourself lately.

Gabrielle laughed quietly. "I'm old, Xena. I guess I'm slowing down." She shrugged. "Who knows. Maybe, when I die, if you ever decide to settle down." She flashed a smile at Xena. "Maybe you'll get to raise me next time."

"Don't talk like that!" Xena shot back tersely. "You still have plenty of time."

"Perhaps," Gabrielle replied. "You never know."

"But these long trips back to the old home aren't helping any!" Xena continued sharply.

"Xena," Gabrielle replied calmly. "I miss him, alright? I promised that I would come back and visit whenever I could."

"I know, I know," Xena's voice sank. "Don't you think I miss him too? He was my father, after all."

Gabrielle looked at Xena, and the two of them began smiling. The smiles gave way to soft chuckles and then to laughter.

"My, what a funny pair we've made," Gabrielle said. "My best friend becomes my daughter, thanks to a crazy biker from a world two thousand years away."

"Strange family tree, that's for sure," Xena agreed. Then he face sobered and she looked at Gabrielle again. "And right now, I know he'd be pissed at you."

Gabrielle looked at Xena in surprise.

"He wouldn't want you going back and forth just to see the coffin he's lying in," Xena continued. "He'd want you to be happy! He'd want you to enjoy the rest of your life, not mourn him for it."

"Xena," Gabrielle sighed. "I'm not mourning him like that, alright? I just think it's pointless to abandon everything we made simply because he's gone." She seemed introspective for a moment. "Besides. I miss my old home. I want to see it again."

"I just think that making this trip every year seems a little pointless," Xena replied and instantly regretted it.

"Pointless?" Gabrielle looked at her sternly.

"That isn't what I meant," Xena stammered. "It's just that, well, I love you, and I love having you in my life, and every time we go back there, it's like a reminder that I'm going to lose you someday too."

"But we always find each other," Gabrielle replied easily. She smiled that familiar smile.

"But it's never the same!" Xena countered. "The first time, I had you as a friend, my best friend, and I loved that. Now, I have you as my mother, and I'm not saying that I don't love that too, but it's just not the same."

"And the next time will be different as well," Gabrielle replied. "And the next time, and the next, for as long as we get to do this. Every time, every lifetime, will be different and special in its own way. Don't think of it as an ending, Xena. Think of it as setting up for the next beginning."

Xena's sardonic smile grew and she looked sidelong at her mother. "When did you get so wise?"

Gabrielle laughed. "Well, I do have a certain advantage in years on you, this time around." Then she looked at her daughter. "And I had a good teacher."

The rounded a small bend in the path and came to the crest of a hill. Down in the shallow valley below they saw the ruins of Poditea stretched out beneath them, broken and charred. Green life had taken root in many of the old, broken buildings. Small trees thrust up from within old walls. The field and the forest were slowly reclaiming the land.

Gabrielle knew that in the future, someone would come back and unearth the remains here, trying to piece the chaos together. In a strange way, the fact that someone she didn't even know would remember that place comforted her.

"Come on," Xena said quietly, turning her horse down a smaller, less traveled path.

Gabrielle tore her gaze away from the ruins and followed Xena down the side of the hill towards the family tomb.

They passed several other entrances before they found the one for their family. The horses slowed to a halt and Gabrielle slowly dismounted, feeling a slight jolt in her old legs as she dropped lightly to the ground.

Looking back towards the east, she saw the sun rising over the low hills. The white marble of the entrance suddenly gleamed like pearl, almost luminescent. She smiled.

"This was a good time to come here," she said in a whisper.

She handed the reigns to Xena and smiled.

"I won't be long," she said.

Xena nodded understandingly. Though she wouldn't admit it there and then, she too, had traveled back to this place while away from home. As much as she projected the strength that she had, she missed her father terribly. There were many nights, just after he had been killed, where, alone on the road, she had cried herself to sleep for missing him. In her existence, David had been the first full time father figure that she had ever known. Xena had been close to David, closer than she had ever been with any other man in this life, or the other. All the things she had missed, growing up the first time, without a father figure, had been amended the second time. It had been the happiest time of her life, those years, growing up under his watchful care. The down side had been that, when he was killed, she had felt the wound more strongly than ever, and it had torn at her heart.

Had it not been for his teachings, and the intervention of her younger brother, Alexander, history might very well have repeated itself, and she might have become the same blood hungry warlord that she had been in her previous life. As it was, she had found other ways to mourn his passing, while at the same time, carrying on his legacy of helping others.

She held the reigns of the horses and stood a respectful distance away from the tomb, watching as her mother – her best friend – entered to pay her respects.

Gabrielle passed into the long narrow arched corridor and down towards the main vault where her husband lay.

The air was cool and dry, with a dusty taint to it. She struck a spark on the old torches hanging at the entrance to the crypt and the flames flickered to life, driving the last of the shadows away.

The room was rectangular, hewn from the living rock by expert hands.

Towards the back, she saw the older sarcophagi. Those were the ones containing her mother, father, sister and niece. The stone of those containers was smoothed by time and dull. Before them rested a large gleaming white sarcophagus of pale stone.

She stepped around it and found the cluster of pigeon holes on the opposite side of David's resting place.

"Hello, honey," Gabrielle said in a quiet voice. She removed a cloth from her bag and began dusting the surface of the sarcophagus as she spoke.

"I finished a couple more scrolls and I thought I'd bring them by for you," she smiled as she drew the writings out and slid them into a pair of unused slots.

"Things have been rather busy lately," she went on. "Alexander, I think, is about to settle in with that lovely girl, Cylissa, that I told you about last year. They haven't set any kind of date yet, but you can see it in their eyes. They are so much in love it's funny."

She stood back up and rested her hand son the cold stone, gazing down at the engraved lid.

"Cylissa said she wanted a family," Gabrielle continued. "A big family. She told me that anyone like Alexander deserves to have as many children as possible. If there's a chance that any of them would turn out half as good as –" Her voice broke suddenly, and she paused.

"I promised myself that I wouldn't cry here," she said. Then she let a bitter laugh escape her lips. "Then again, I've been promising that for the last two years." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "Still, it seems to get a little easier each time. I'm doing okay, really. I still hear you in the new home, sometimes, when it's late at night, and the town is quiet. I know you're there, with me, just like always."

She sighed wearily. "Gods, this is so hard for me. Having you, then losing you, and then having you again. I just – I don't know." She shrugged.

"I won't be back again next year," she said suddenly. "Xena was right. I am getting old, and the trip is just so long and difficult." She stopped again. "Listen to me. I'm babbling again."

Gabrielle walked around the sarcophagus and seated herself on the next stone slab.

"I just hope you'll understand," she finally said.

When no otherworldly response was forthcoming, Gabrielle smiled and nodded. "I knew you'd understand."

She rose and then frowned as her eyes fell on the sandy floor around the base of David's resting place.

She looked back at the opposite side of the sarcophagus and then again at the other side. The signs were plain. A second sent of footprints facing the container.

"What the hell?" she asked aloud, using one of her late husbands expressions without even thinking about it.

Ignoring the slight pain in her limbs, she knelt down and gently placed her fingers in the gentle depression, studying the size and depth of the prints.

Old tracking instincts, dormant for years, reawakened with full vigor and Gabrielle knew instantly that these prints were not hers, not her children's, and not more than a day old. Someone else, besides her family, had been in this place recently. A quick inspection showed everything in place. Nothing had been disturbed, and yet?

She stepped next to the prints and studied the smooth finished engravings on the lid of the coffin and her eyes immediately spotted the subtle, soft, miniscule discolorations on the surface.

She gently touched the residue on the tiny spots and realization fell into place.

Salt. The remains of fresh tears shed over her husband within a day. Her mind reeled as she tried desperately to think of who it might have been. In the end, she could find nothing. Perhaps someone that he and she had aided in the past had learned of her husbands' demise and come to pay respects, but she couldn't think of whom. Most, if not all the people she had known, within a month's travel, had been wiped out by her daughter and the maniacal followers of Dahok.

In the end, she could come to no final conclusion, and she decided to let the matter rest. She gathered her things, straightened several items left in remembrance, and then she headed for the entrance.

Her hand came to rest on the frame of the entrance, and she turned back to the silent coffin and smiled.

"Don't worry, my love," she said wistfully. "I think I'll be back here pretty soon, in any event. Sleep well. I'll see you then."

When she emerged, Xena could see the renewed sadness and loss in Gabrielle's eyes. She sighed. Then she perceived the mild confusion as well.

"Everything alright?" She asked.

"Hm?" Gabrielle blinked and came back from her introspection. "Oh, yes. Everything's fine. I just – do you know if Alexander has been by here recently?"

Xena shook her head. "Why?"

"Just wondering," Gabrielle replied. "I thought perhaps someone had been there within the last day or so, but I could be wrong."

Slowly, she pulled herself back onto the horse and the two of them turned, moving back the way they had come and heading towards the remains of the village.

Neither one of them spoke as they moved through the ruins towards their old home. The buildings around them lay crumbling or broken, many scorched black from the fires that had destroyed them. The whole area held the sensation of an unquiet graveyard. Vegetation clawed its way through the ruins like small fingers attempting to hide the shameful scars of abuse. The wind moaned gently through opened roof's and abandoned hallways.

They followed the ruined street through the town and out past it into the once fertile farmlands, turning gently down the overgrown path until they rounded a bend and saw the old homestead.

The old barn had partially collapsed at some time in the previous months, and the wedding pavilion was nothing more than a settling mass of rotting punk. The home, however stood straight and strong, still completely intact, though gray with exposure to the elements.

The old shutters were still drawn shut and the old door was sealed, just the way they had left it the year prior.

They reined their horses in front of the old porch and noticed, for the first time, that several of the sturdy planking was beginning to warp and fail. Looking up, they saw the dark stains that indicated where water had begun to leak through.

Xena sighed.

"Well," she said. "I guess even this old place won't stay forever."

Gabrielle nodded. "It's lasted better than everything else, though." She smiled.

She dropped to the ground and moved to help Gabrielle do the same.

They both started when the old door creaked open and a figure stepped tentatively from within.

She wore a simple tunic, a light cream color, now stained with miles of travel, simple brown breeches, and a pair of dark hide boots. In her hand, she held a long oaken staff, resting on the planking next to her feet. Her long golden hair was tied back in a loose tail and her green eyes fixed on Gabrielle with anxiety.

When she spoke, her voice was tight. "Hello, mother."

Gabrielle felt her jaw drop in amazement. She forced herself to breathe.

"Hope?"

The fury exploded from somewhere deep within Xena's heart. With a cry, she surged forward, kicking the staff from Hope's hand and grasping the front of the tunic. There was the sound of tearing cloth as Hope was hurled out into the center of the yard.

"You're like a damned roach that just won't die!" Xena bellowed as she charged again.

Hope struggled to her feet, but offered no resistance as Xena's knee plowed into her midsection.

The air exploded from her lungs in a single gasp as she doubled over. She tried to hold a hand out to stop Xena's assault, and then felt her fist smash into her face and she went skyward, landing in a heap.

"Xena!" Gabrielle struggled from the back of the horse. She had seen the look in Hope's eyes, and also saw that Hope was doing nothing to defend herself. Even if Hope tried to fight, she would not have been able to win, but she could at least minimize the damage.

Gabrielle saw no hint that she was even trying. Hope was letting this carnage ensue.

"Xena! Stop!"

Xena was beyond hearing anything. All she beheld was shaded in red. The only thing she perceived was the thunder of her own heart and the vision of her prey within easy reach. The darkest aspect of her nature had at last seized control. It would not stop until its thirst for vengeance had been sated.

She hauled the doppelganger up to her feet, only to smash her down again and again, reveling in the new injuries each strike created. Behind all that rage lingered a single question which she screamed like a war cry.

"Why won't you die?"

The beating continued until the tunic was shredded and the breeches and boots were covered in mud. The beating continued until Hope was bleeding from the nose, mouth, and ear. The beating continued as the flesh on her sides and around her eyes began to puff and discolor to sickly purple yellow bruises.

The beating continued.

"Xena! Stop!" Gabrielle cried in a rising panic. Hope was like a limp doll being abused by a wrathful child. "Xena! You're killing her!"

"Too right!" Xena shouted back. She hauled the semi conscious Hope back up once more.

Hope's head lolled back and her arms hung uselessly at her sides. Her lips moved over and over forming the same words again and again as if this were her last, desperate conscious thought.

Xena saw, for the first time, the tears mixing with the blood on her face.

The rage suddenly subsided in shock, though it did not abate completely.

"What?" she shook Hope's limp form. "What did you say?"

She pulled the beaten girl closer and felt her head fall against the leather clad shoulder and then she heard it. The words flashed through her soul like lightning.

"I'm sorry."

Xena couldn't believe what she had heard. Then the words awoke another wave of fury.

"You're sorry?" she growled. She held Hope up and looked into her eyes.

The bleariness left Hope's eyes and they suddenly focused with crystal clarity, filled with fear and destitute expectation.

"You're sorry?" Xena repeated, feeling the surge rise once more. "You're sorry? Yeah, you are! You're real sorry! Now apologize!" She spun in a circle and flung Hope across the yard.

Hope fell upon the rotting pavilion. The wood shredded and shattered as she crashed through it. Splinters of wood flew in all directions as Hope landed with a sickening thud.

Xena drew her sword and stalked forward, consumed with rage.

Somehow, Gabrielle managed to get there first, interposing herself between her enraged daughter and her victim.

"Xena!" she cried with a new strength. "Stop!"

Xena froze in surprise. "You can't be serious? After everything she's done to you – to us?"

"She didn't even try and stop you, Xena!" Gabrielle shot back. She backed slowly towards the ruined pavilion. "She didn't even attempt to defend herself! She knew this would happen!"

"She should be dead!" Xena cried back.

Realization suddenly flooded Gabrielle's mind. The errant footprints in the family tomb and the residue on the lid of the coffin. The footprints were identical to hers.

"By the gods," Gabrielle breathed. Then she looked at Xena with fierce determination.

"She was at the tomb yesterday!" She said. "She was crying over your father!"

Those words were more of an insult to Xena than a revelation. Her blue eyes frosted over with renewed contempt. "She what?"

Gabrielle placed her hands on Xena's shoulders.

"Please," she pleaded. "Just stop."

The rage began to crumble and the tears began to well in Xena's eyes.

"She could have run," Gabrielle continued. "She could have fought back. She didn't have to come here, but she did, and she knew, if we were here, that you'd probably do this! She came back anyway!"

Gabrielle looked down at the weapon in Xena's hand. Slowly, she wrapped her fingers over her daughters.

"Let it go, honey," she said in a soft, calm voice. "Just let it go."

Reluctantly, Xena's fingers uncurled from the hilt of her sword, and let Gabrielle remove it.

She held the weapon for a moment and then let it fall to the earth. Then she picked her way slowly through the mass of ruined wood to the limp form entangled in the boards.

She lay sprawled out amongst the wreckage, her face a mask of crimson, her body a contorted mass of rapidly coloring bruises. Still, Hope's lips moved automatically, clinging desperately to that one conscious thought.

Gabrielle looked down at her first daughter, her mind a whirl of emotion, her eyes wide with expectation, tinged with fear.

It was not the first time that Hope had allowed herself to be wounded as part of an elaborate plot. Still, even then, she had been completely coherent, retaining all her malicious inhuman powers.

This pummeled mass of a person was something else entirely. Hope was broken and completely defenseless.

Then Hope's eyes locked on hers with child like desperation, and one hand struggled feebly to rise.

Gabrielle's breath stopped in that pitiful gaze. She saw more emotion, more humanity, and more frailty in this one expression than she had ever seen before in anyone in all her life.

The cold, lifeless, cruel creature that had been Hope was nowhere to be found.

She edged herself closer, kneeling next to the broken form and gently brushed a few stray locks of bloodied hair from Hope's eyes.

Weak, painful sobs, that were more like soft painful gasps, emerged from Hope's split lips.

Without knowing why, Gabrielle slowly slipped her arm beneath the shoulders of her daughter and gently raised her up, cradling Hope against her breast.

Xena watched this, her own heart in turmoil. As her mind replayed the enraged confrontation she suddenly realized that her mother was exactly right. Hope hadn't lifted an aggressive hand against her. She had offered no resistance, allowing Xena to physically destroy her.

If Hope had some diabolical plan to drive a wedge between her and her mother, then Xena had just played right into Hope's hand – again."

Now, as she saw her mother cradling that thing in her arms, she didn't know if she should feel compassion for the young woman she had just brutalized, or wariness that she might be the victim of another one of Hope's elaborate deceptions.

Suspicion and compassion battled back and forth within her, and she was shocked when compassion actually won.

Something like disgust at that revelation washed over her, and she grimaced.

"If she is pulling something, then I am dead from the neck up." She sighed.

When she saw Gabrielle struggling to lift Hope from the wreckage, she rolled her eyes.

"Hold on," she sighed. She picked her way through the broken wood and knelt opposite her mother.

She slid her arms underneath Hope with far less gentleness. Hope moaned in pain.

"Help me get her into the house," Gabrielle instructed.

"I got her," Xena nodded. "Go ahead."

Gabrielle slowly began picking her way back out toward the yard.

Xena stood, lifting Hope out of the wreckage.

"Listen to me, and listen good!" She growled in her ear. "If this is a con, I'll kill you twice, understand?"

Quickly, Gabrielle unslung her pack from the saddle of the horse and carried the large bundle of cloth into the old house. She laid her sleeping blankets on the frame of the bed in her old room.

Xena lay Hope on the blankets and withdrew. Gabrielle heard the front door open and shut.

Xena stepped up to her horse and let her forehead fall against the saddle. Her mind was reeling with the tumult of emotions she was feeling. She suddenly understood just how close to the edge she had gotten without falling over, again, into that darkness that had caused so much death and destruction the first time around.

A grim smile pulled at her lips. "Well," she thought. "If that was the plan, then the little bitch failed."

Her mind played out various brutal scenarios that resulted in Hope's long and painful demise, but when it came to the point where she would look into Hope's eyes before the end, all she saw was that same, pitiful, beaten, human expression of complete remorse. That expression removed any relish from the fantasies running through her mind and Xena found that mildly annoying in a sick way.

Her father's words burst from her lips just as one of his many life instructions finally asserted itself. She knew what she should do, as much as she felt it would only lead to disaster.

"Christ on a crutch," she muttered as she fumbled with the releases on her saddle and pulled her camping gear free.

When she reentered her parent's old room, Hope lay unconscious on the bed, and her mother sat alongside, a surprised and haunted expression on her face.

"Mom?" Xena asked, feeling a cold twitch in her gut. "What's wrong?"

Gabrielle blinked and something like a smile appeared on her lips.

"It was your father," she said in a near whisper, as if she dare not believe it.

"What?"

Gabrielle looked up at Xena. "Your father got her out of that prison somehow."

"That's impossible!" Xena replied vehemently.

"Oink," Gabrielle said quietly.

Xena frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Gabrielle smiled. "It was a private joke that we shared." Gabrielle smiled as she reminisced.

"There were times that thought he behaved like a total pig," she explained. "I always teased him about it. Whenever I did, he would always reply by saying 'oink'."

"I don't see what that has to do with that," Xena replied, pointing at the motionless Hope.

Gabrielle's gaze darkened with sudden protectiveness.

"Before she passed out," she said with just a hint of ice in her voice. "She said that she had a message for me. She said he told her to tell me that my favorite pig says oink."

Xena was stunned. "There's no way!" she stammered.

"Xena," Gabrielle continued. "Hope is here, right now, because your father somehow managed to arrange it."

Suddenly, the relish of beating Hope tasted like bitter ashes in Xena's mouth. Her throat went dry. If she had waited a couple more seconds before giving in to her hatred, if – she shook her head vehemently.

"I refuse to feel sorry for this," she growled. "I don't care if Zeus pulled her out of that prison, the little bitch should be dead! If she tries anything, I'll make sure that's what she gets!"

Xena pulled her spare blanket free and tossed it on the floor at the foot of the bed.

"Just in case," she finished lamely, and she withdrew. The conflict between what was right and what she desired was plain on her face.

Gabrielle rose and picked up the blanket, gently draping it over Hope's unconscious form. She placed her hand gently against Hope's swollen cheek and then closed the door as she left the room.

She found Xena laying the rest of her sleeping gear on the frame of the old wooden couch in the main room of the cabin.

"What are you doing?" Gabrielle asked.

"You take my old room," Xena replied. "I want to make sure I'm between you and that thing in there." Her eyes flicked towards the closed door.

The fire in the hearth had burned down to warm, glowing embers and the night noises were singing beyond the walls when Xena's eyes snapped open. A noise was emanating from the behind the door in her parent's old room.

She laid perfectly still, her every sense heightened by the threat of what was in the next room.

There it was again. Xena frowned at the sound. It was a soft, choking gasp, or sob, as if someone were weeping.

She rose slowly to her feet, separating her chakram into two wickedly curving knives and, gripping each one tightly, she moved towards the door.

Placing her ear close to the weathered wood, she listened in awe at the sounds from within. Then, her curiosity piqued, she gently opened the door and looked inside.

Hope lay on the bed, the blanket that had been covering her was a mass of cloth at the foot of the bed, and the battered girl lay, curled in the fetal position, her eyes squeezed shut.

Xena studied the sleeping Hope with mild fascination, watching as she would move or twitch suddenly, mumbling words in her slumber.

Though Xena couldn't make out what she was saying, she recognized a nightmare when she saw one.

How many nightmares could one human being endure? That sudden question caught Xena off guard as she pondered the tortured, sleeping form before her.

Ever since her first encounter with Gabrielle's demonic child, she had never even considered her as she did her other human opponents. But then, she had never seen a spark of humanity in the thing twisting on the bed. Not until today.

Something like pity awoke in her heart, and she was instantly disgusted, once again, by what she had done.

Again, her conflicting self revulsion awoke her anger, only this time she felt it towards herself.

"Go away," Hope muttered in her sleep. "Go away!"

Xena blinked. For a moment, she had thought the battered figure had awakened, then she saw her hand brush along the blanket, as if warding something away.

Xena looked down at the weapons in her hands. Instantly, the cold, calculating side of her reasserted itself.

"Kill her!" A dark part of her mind begged. "Walk in and slit the bitch's throat! She should have been executed in Athens anyway! She didn't deserve to live! She killed your father! She killed your son! She was an abomination, a thing, a creature that should be put down, like a rabid dog!"

Another jerk from the bed brought her out of her dark thoughts as Hope turned over, her arm flailing slightly. "Go away," she sobbed.

Xena saw Hope's face in the moonlight, and instantly, the dark desires were washed away. The expression on the bruised features was so tormented that she couldn't remember ever seeing the like of it before, in either life.

"Gods," Xena breathed. How many faces were haunting those dreams?

Slowly, she closed the door.

When she opened her eyes again, the pale light of dawn was just beginning to shine through the small crack at the base of the front door. The house was still and silent. The embers were burnt down to a pile of black and gray ash.

Quickly, Xena rose and went to check on the others.

She peeked into her old room and found Gabrielle sleeping peacefully under the blankets. She smiled and quietly shut the door, moving down towards the other room.

When she opened the door to her parents old room, something like cold dread settled over her heart. The blankets had been pushed off the edge of the bed and lay in a pile on the floor. Hope was gone.

"Son of a bitch," Xena muttered. She turned and walked quickly to the front door.

She opened it and stepped out into the misty morning air.

Hope stood in the yard, her eyes focused on the ground before her. The mist curled gray about her ankles. She had the ripped tunic wrapped about her body, and she leaned on the oak staff.

Xena took a few steps onto the porch and realized that Hope was standing in the exact spot where she had killed David.

Anger reawakened in Xena's heart, heating the blood in her veins. This time, however, she refrained from lashing out.

She saw Hope tense in expectation, saw the subtle wince of pain on her face, and then it was gone.

Neither one spoke for a long time. Finally, Xena turned to go back into the house.

"I'm sorry," Hope said suddenly.

Xena stopped and turned back.

Hope looked up at her, tear streaks shining on her bruised face. Xena suddenly realized just how severely she had beaten the smaller woman. The entire left side of Hope's face was puffy and darkened; her left eye was nearly swollen shut.

She didn't know what to say. What do you say to the person that was responsible for the destruction of your family, the devastation of your home?

Hope looked back down. It was as if she could actually see David lying there.

"I've never cried before," she continued. "I never knew what it felt like."

She took a deep, painful breath.

"In the last two weeks," she went on. "I've cried more than in my whole life."

"Is that supposed to mean something to me?" Xena asked icily.

A grim smile touched the corners of Hope's mouth. "I suppose not."

Out of the corner of her eye, Hope watched as Xena stayed for a few moments and then vanished back into the home.

"But it does mean something to me," she finished quietly.

Several hours later, Gabrielle emerged from the other room and found Xena seated on the couch, absently rotating her chakram between her fingers, lost in thought.

"You're up early," she said. "Is everything alright?"

Xena shrugged and then nodded towards the front door.

"It's out there," she said darkly. "Standing in the middle of the yard."

Concerned, Gabrielle moved towards the door.

"Mom," Xena said suddenly. "Don't be gullible. Please?"

Gabrielle turned and looked back at her daughter. There was a stern look in her eyes.

"Meaning?" She asked.

Instantly Xena regretted her tone. "I just mean, be careful, okay?"

Gabrielle's expression softened a bit and she nodded. Then she quietly stepped out through the door.

Xena sat there, her mind whirling with thoughts and feelings that she had believed resolved a lifetime ago.

Of course, the freshest wound was the loss of her father. She could still see him lying in the yard. Beneath his body, the blood was flowing, yet he had this strangely peaceful, almost triumphant expression on his face. Then the fury had consumed her in a way that she had only experienced a lifetime ago.

A part of her feared that anger. It was a storm that unleashed its power with inhuman strength. Her father had always said that her temper could be her downfall, if she didn't learn to control it. She had devoted a good portion of her life, after remembering, to controlling and moderating that fire within her. In her heart she had felt that she had accomplished some form of inner control, more so than she ever had in her previous life, and still, there were those few exceptions that would set her off.

Those moments of madness had the potential to do more harm than good, and she recognized that. Still, she couldn't help what she felt. The creature standing outside that door had been responsible for the loss of the most important figure in her life. David had been a treasure, unique and irreplaceable.

That thought began a long string of other names of people she had lost.

A memory bubbled to the surface. A night where the two of them sat across one another, the tiny camp fire crackling merrily between them. The air was thick with the scent of burning pine, and the stars were twinkling like diamonds in the night.

David reached over and removed the small silver pot from the circular grill, suspended over the flames. He refilled his mug with coffee and took a sip.

"When you look a situation," he explained. "Don't simply look at them from your point of view. Try and see things from the perspective of the other person. Keep an open mind to other possibilities."

"How do you mean?" Xena had asked.

David had sipped his coffee as he thought.

"You're walking through town one night," David explained hypothetically. "As you round a corner, you see a couple of men pulling a woman up into the back of a carriage. The girl is making all kinds of noise, squealing and stuff. What do you do?"

"I stop them," Xena answered immediately.

David smiled. "Why?"

"Because if they're putting her in the wagon, they're trying to kidnap her, most likely." Xena replied, remembering the first time she met Gabrielle in her previous life. A group of Slavers from Draco's army had captured several of the young women from Poditea, and were preparing to march them off to a slave market.

"That's a possibility," David agreed. "But do you know it for certain?"

"Well," Xena countered, suspecting another one of her father's verbal traps. "If she's squealing, and they're lifting her into the cart?"

David smiled, seeing the suspicion in her eyes.

"What would you do to stop them?"

"Whatever it took," Xena replied.

"Okay," David said. "So, lets say you run over there, knock one of the guys out and pull the girl free, holding your chakram at the other guys throat, sound about right? No one gets hurt, just bumped about a little."

"Well," Xena countered. "I'm not going to run them through, no."

David chuckled. "So, in your zeal for justice, you have just run over and knocked out the young woman's fiancée, held a knife to the brother's throat, and rescued a girl who had had her ass pinched by her future husband as they were helping her into the wagon before leaving to elope somewhere. How would that make you feel?"

Xena blinked at her father, and then smiled, chuckling. "I really hate it when you do this."

"Not everything is as it sometimes appears, baby," David smiled. "You need to be able to see other perspectives, listen to other people's point of view before making a decision. You can't always go off half cocked just because you perceive something a certain way."

"I know, I know," Xena replied. "But there are times when you don't get the chance to look at things from different perspectives, as you call it."

"I'm not saying you should sit back and wait when the intent is obvious," David agreed. "But I am saying that you should do that whenever you get the chance."

Xena mulled that over for a few moments. It did make sense. Sometimes things aren't what they appear to be on the surface. Then she began to smile again.

"Had her ass pinched?" Xena asked, grinning.

David laughed. "What?" He asked innocently. "I pinch your mom's ass on occasion. I think she likes it."

"Whoa there, dad," Xena laughed. "There are some things that I don't really need to know."

David put on his best, most innocent expression. "What did I say?"

There was a sudden metallic clunk, followed by a hissing, as coffee burst out the worn seam on the side of the battered pot. The soft pine scent was suddenly overwhelmed by the bitter odor of burning coffee.

David sighed and pulled the broken implement off the grill.

"Then again," he sighed sadly. "Sometimes things are exactly what they seem to be. For example: It seems quite obvious that I won't be able to fix this thing again." He set the broken pot to the side and sipped his last cup of coffee, savoring every drop.

"Sometimes things are exactly what they seem to be," Xena sighed, though she didn't want to believe it. Then again, if she could change her ways, all those years ago, couldn't anyone?

"I am going to feel like the mother of all morons if this is a scheme," she admonished herself. "Well, I don't have to trust her. Just keep an eye on her."

She rose and moved towards the door.


	5. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Gabrielle stepped out onto the porch and found Hope standing in the middle of the yard.

Cautiously, she approached her daughter.

She was surprised when she saw the silver sheen of tears on Hope's cheek.

"Hope?"

She noticed that her daughter had hr meager possessions packed in a small bag. There was a resigned sadness in her eyes.

"I wanted," Hope's voice caught. "There was this man, Ian. He found me, after." She took a long shaky breath and closed her eyes. "It's so hard, feeling all these emotions like this."

Gabrielle saw the dark circles under Hope's eyes.

"Have you slept?" she asked lamely.

A frosty smile touched the corners of Hopes mouth. "A little."

The pain in Hope's voice was as real as a knife blade. It pierced Gabrielle's heart.

"I'm sorry," Hope said suddenly, wiping at the tears and sniffing. "I just…I wanted to tell you that much. I know that it isn't enough to make up for everything that I put you through, all the things I've done to you…to your family." Her voice stuck in her throat again and she forced her emotions back down. "I just wanted you to know that."

"Hope."

"I need to leave," Hope continued quickly. The tumult within her was building and she wanted to be gone before it broke through the rapidly crumbling barrier she was trying to erect. "I just had to come back here, just in case."

She felt a hand gently touch her shoulder.

"Don't," Hope protested, shrugging away from her mother's touch.

"Look at me," Gabrielle said gently.

"I need to get going," hope replied quickly.

"Look at me," Gabrielle repeated more firmly. She put her hand back on Hope's shoulder and slowly turned her around.

When their eyes locked, Hope's expression became one of intense internal agony, and the walls shattered as all the emotion burst out. The sobs rose from somewhere within her, sapping her strength. She fell forward into Gabrielle's arms and the two of them settled to the ground.

Gabrielle cradled Hope in her arms, whispering soft words of comfort and feeling her own heart hammering in her chest as she realized that this person was her daughter. The evil creature that had been her daughter was gone, vanquished, and utterly destroyed.

At the first wail, Xena came running out from the house and stopped short when she saw Gabrielle holding Hope, who sobbed uncontrollably.

The entire scene was so completely unbelievable that she forgot to breathe for a long while. Her mouth hung open in amazement. Now the guilt from her earlier actions filled her belly like lead and there was no rationalizing it any more even as the scorn remained.

"You've got to be kidding me," she muttered.

Gabrielle heard the quip and glared at Xena.

"I close my eyes every night!" Hope sobbed. "All I see are the faces! Hundreds and hundreds of faces! They come back over and over and over! I can't make them stop!"

Xena suppressed a shudder. She remembered those nightmares from a lifetime ago. Se saw the faces of her first victims and heard their voices as they called to her the names of those that she had killed in an eerie maddening whisper. Those were memories of fire and carnage and blood that had tormented her for years.

After A while, Xena slowly seated herself on the steps leading up to the porch and watched in amazement as all the torment and pain locked within Hope finally came free.

The sun was riding high in the afternoon sky when the sobs finally began to subside. Throughout the entire ordeal, Gabrielle remained motionless, cradling this thing that was her daughter in her arms.

When it was finally over, Hope was too exhausted to move. She lay helpless in her mothers arms. Soft, pained whimpering sounds emanated from her. Her eyes were puffy and rimmed in red.

"Xena," Gabrielle motioned for her. "Help me with her."

Reluctantly, Xena moved to assist, lifting the limp form and carrying her back towards the old house.

Gabrielle and Xena let Hope settle back onto the bed. Hope was unconscious by the time they got there.

"I think she'll sleep for a while now," Gabrielle nodded. Then she and Xena backed out of the room.

The door stopped with a gentle click and then Gabrielle looked up at her daughter.

"Still think this is a ruse?" she asked. It wasn't sarcastic. It was a genuine question.

The detachment in Gabrielle's eyes caught Xena by surprise for a moment.

"You," she pointed back out towards the yard. "But."

Gabrielle smiled grimly and pointed towards the living room.

Once they were out of earshot, Xena couldn't restrain herself any longer.

"I would have sworn that you were hooked," she whispered.

"In some ways," Gabrielle shrugged. "I am."

Xena groaned and rolled her eyes.

"I said, in some ways," Gabrielle shot back. "I remember all the things she did, the plots and the lies and…" She stopped as her eyes settled on the front door.

"The point is," Gabrielle went on. "I can't be sure anymore."

"You can't?" Xena asked.

Gabrielle shook her head. "I looked into her eyes, Xena. I looked in her eyes and I saw more pain than I've ever seen before."

"She's pulled stuff like this before, mom," Xena countered. "Like when I got back to Poditea and thought she was you."

"And I've seen it too," Gabrielle replied. "But even when she was at her most convincing, there was always something deeper. Like an undercurrent of cold that she couldn't cover up. And there are other things to think of as well."

"Such as?" Xena folded her arms.

"She's been in that prison for over two years," Gabrielle offered. "Who knows what she's been through there."

"We don't know she's been there this whole time," Xena countered. Her eyes narrowed when she saw Gabrielle's expression change. "Do we?"

"Last year," Gabrielle admitted. "I went to the prison."

"You what?" Xena hissed.

"She doesn't know I was there," Gabrielle added quickly. "But I saw her, from a distance."

Xena was clearly unconvinced.

"Then there are other things as well," Gabrielle continued. "Why was she even left in that place?"

"What?"

"Don't you think Dahok would have gotten her out of there?" Gabrielle went on.

Xena shrugged. "Maybe her time there was some kind of lesson?" she offered.

Gabrielle shook her head. "I don't think so. At least, that isn't the way this feels."

Gabrielle sat down on the dusty wood frame couch, her eyes inward, deep in contemplation. "And then, there are other things."

"Don't stop now, mom," Xena said sarcastically. "You're on a roll."

Gabrielle looked at her daughter. "Okay, fine. Where are her followers? She never went anywhere without them, and she didn't waste time with games like this. And then there's the beating you gave her. Did you even see the way she moved, or didn't move in this case? It was like she didn't even know how to defend herself."

"If she wanted to create some conflict between us," Xena countered. "Then all she needed to do was let me beat her bloody for a while, playing to your compassion, mom. You remember the fight we when she was still a child, right?"

Gabrielle shuddered at that memory. It had been the one and only time where she and Xena had faced each other and battled openly. Though Gabrielle wouldn't admit it, there were still aches and pains that she attributed to that fight.

Gabrielle shrugged. "Have you looked at her, Xena?" she asked. "Have you taken a moment and really looked into her eyes? You taught me that, remember? How to look into someone's eyes and size them up."

"I know," Xena nodded.

"But have you done that?" Gabrielle pressed.

Xena sighed and shook her head. "No."

"Why not?"

Xena didn't reply. She turned away and stood before the window, pushing the shutters open with a thrust of her hand. She gazed out at the open space between the house and the ruins of their old barn, her memories flooding through her with the same stinging sensation as if they were fresh in this current life, not relics of a past existence.

She remembered the cold, lifeless stare that had been Hope's gaze. Since she had been born, those eyes had been that way, beautiful green, but dull and merciless.

She struggled to reconcile those memories with the memory of what she had recently done. In fact, she had seen Hope's eyes, even as she rushed forward to attack her.

In retrospect, the memory made her shiver suddenly.

Hope had stood there, her expression hadn't been the same cold confidence she remembered.

This time, her eyes had been weary, tired, lifeless, and filled with meek acceptance. It was as if there was no will left in her at all. There was no move to protect herself when Xena's blows began to fall. Hope hadn't even raised her arms to protect herself. She had simply stood her ground and waited for the punishment she knew was coming. She had accepted it as though it were her lot.

Xena turned back and looked at Gabrielle, her own expression slightly haunted, and filled with a sudden sense of remorse.

"She wanted me to kill her," Xena finally breathed.

"Yes, she did." Gabrielle replied evenly. "And as much as one part of her wanted to die, there was something else that was reaching out to me. You couldn't see it because you were so consumed with rage that it blinded you."

"And yet, you're still being cautious," Xena added, her eyes narrowing.

"What was it your father used to say?" Gabrielle replied with a sly smile. "I may have been born at night, but it wasn't last night."

"So you don't trust her either," Xena concluded.

"No, I don't," Gabrielle nodded. "If she's sincere this time, then she'll understand that she has a lot to make up for. If she isn't, then I won't be too concerned about hurting her feelings, now, will I?"

Xena smiled. "When did you get so cold?" she asked. It always amazed her that, even in Gabrielle's latter years, she still possessed the same ferocity and fire that she had possessed in youth.

"Helicon," Gabrielle said simply, and her smile faded.

"Ouch," Xena muttered. "Sorry."

"Okay," Xena added after a deep breath. "So, what do we do with her?"

It was the same temple again, the same ocean of blood. She could feel the same rhythmic death knell of drums vibrating in her belly. Hope felt as though she were about to go mad. Her feet failed to obey her, propelling her back into that slaughterhouse. The people danced and undulated in a throng of sweaty, moving flesh.

She saw the first dagger and her conscience screamed for them to stop.

"Okay! Okay!" A voice boomed over the maelstrom. "Christ already! Enough for one night! Give it a god damned rest!"

Completely amazed, the masses stopped moving. The deafening drums fell silent, and all eyes turned to stare up past Hope at a figure standing in the corner.

Her heart hammering in her throat, Hope slowly turned her eyes and almost cried out in surprise.

"You again!"

David stepped from the shadows, his long dark coat fluttering about him, smiling like the son of the devil himself.

"Hey kiddo!" he greeted her. "Silence is golden, huh?"

Then he turned to the static throng of people.

"Alright!" he shouted. "No last calls for alcohol, no rude lights, just me saying get the fuck out! Hop a boat, swim the backstroke, I don't care! Just get!"

In a whisper of air, the masses vanished like smoke, leaving only the dark, torch lit temple, with its flickering shadows.

"Much better," David sighed. Then he motioned to the back wall. "Come on. Let's get the hell out of here."

"I've tried," Hope replied dismally. "I can't get out."

David chuckled as he looked about the place. "Sure you can. If you have the right guide with you." He stuck a hand in his pocket and offered his arm to her. "You coming?"

Hope eyed him curiously. "Where?"

She was afraid that the new destination might wind up being more horrifying than her current nightmare. This was, after all, the man she had killed.

David grinned and chuckled. "Man, you need to loosen up, kiddo. We are going out of here. You know, someplace other than this one?"

David raised a hand, gesturing at the back wall. A section of it shimmered golden blue for a moment and then revealed a doorway, dark and ominous.

Hope froze in sudden concern. It was like gazing through a doorway into the very mouth of infinity.

David turned and looked at her, a sly smile on his face. "What's the problem?"

She shook her head, even as David backed closer to the void.

"What's through there?" she asked.

"Just a short free fall into something other than this," David offered with a smile. "We are in your mind, after all."

"Free fall?" Hope asked, not quite liking the sound of that. "What is a free fall."

"Look," David said as he stood on the brink. "I can't understand why, but I'm here to help you, among other things, but I can't do shit for you unless you start trusting me."

"Trust you?" Hope laughed suddenly. "Why should I trust you? You left me in a prison that was torn down around me!"

"But I put you in the right spot to survive it!" David replied again.

"You walked away and abandoned me!" Hope cried at him, her anger rising.

"I led you the direction you needed to go!" David shouted back.

"You left me for dead in that forest!" Hope shouted again.

"But I put you where a friend of mine could find and help you!" David shouted back.

"Yeah, a friend who's also been dead for who knows how long!" Hope cried. "I thought I might actually have someone who could help me get used to all these, these emotions and feeling, without me falling apart at every turn, and he wound up being a corpse! Just another corpse!"

"Well shit, kid!" David bellowed at her angrily. "If you wanted everything neat and tidy, maybe you shouldn't have run me through the god damned gullet the first time we met, huh? Ever consider that?"

Hope opened her mouth to reply, but found she had no answer for that.

"You got a lot of shit to make up for, and a lot of people that you pissed off, with no skills, no experience, and right now, not a whole helluva lot of personality either! Now, you can turn your ass around and go back to the Drum Corps in here, or you can take a chance!" He leaned back, his fingers wrapped around the edge of the opening. "And try something new!"

Again, he grinned. It was almost a maniacal expression.

"Your call, Blondie!" He finished. The he let go and fell through the doorway with an exhilarated shriek. "Geronimo!"

Hope ran to the edge of the void and looked down into the nothingness as she watched the fluttering shadow that was David fall further and further away.

Terror at the prospect of an eternal plummet into darkness and the maddening fear of the slaughter she relived pulled at her. In each hand there was terror. There was the fear of the unknown. Where did this blackness lead? Her nightmare was a place fashioned by her own mind and her own experiences. By taking this course, would she find herself plunged into an even darker torment.

"_Doom Boom!"_ The drums of the temple began pounding behind her. Looking back she saw the people reappearing.

"Gods no," she breathed, her eyes going wide with fear. "No, not again."

"_Boom Doom Boom!"_

She saw the people beginning to sway to the driving rhythms. She saw the women and children in the masses. She saw the weapons in their hands.

One of the figures let out a shrieking wail that reverberated through the stone room, echoing like the call of the damned. It was answered by the hundreds dancing in the temple. Their shrieks and wails rang in her ears, stinging the inside of her mind with deafening noise.

The drums rolled on.

"No!" Hope cried again, clapping her hands over her ears. "Please! Stop this!"

"_Doom Boom Badadoom!"_

The drums rolled on.

"Please stop!" she screamed even as the first of the dancers raised their weapons skyward. The walls around her began oozing with blood.

As the first weapon fell towards the body of a small girl dancing in the crowd, Hope turned and flung herself through the portal. Anything would be better than this private hell.

She fell forward into the blackness. The drums gave one final "Boom" and then…

She landed on her belly in a damp bed of soft green moss. The air was thick with the swampy smell of gas. A large stagnant pool shimmered in the light of a partial pinkish moon. All about her was damp earth, bracken, and water.

Thick tangled trees intertwined countless dark branches over her head, most of them trailing long, wispy beards of lichen or other vegetation. Bramble bushes grew wild in the gaps between the trees. Large dead branches intertwined their rotting limbs with the strong roots of the trees protruding like clawing bones in the soft, damp earth.

All about her, phosphorescent gasses floated like pale luminous yellow clouds, ghostlike in their writhing.

Turning her head to the side, she locked eyes with the beady gaze of a large reptilian face. It was mottled orange and black, with a long snout. Its forked tongue flicked in her direction and she heard the soft gulping noise as it tasted the air.

She cried out in alarm as she scrambled to her feet.

The lizard, equally terrified by the strange creature before it, fled into the bracken with a rustle of tall, damp grasses.

Creatures skittered or fluttered about on leathery wings. Strange animal calls, more alien than normal echoed all about her.

Her green eyes looked furtively after each new and terrifying sound.

The damp air bit through her flesh, chilling her right down to the bone.

There was a soft sound of something breaking the surface of the water in the large pool behind her.

She froze, the chill of the damp air solidifying into a chunk of dread, frozen in her belly.

There was a loud, deep groan behind her. It vibrated in the soft ground beneath her feet.

Slowly, her breath coming in short, terrified gasps, she turned toward the sound and saw the massive hump of some huge creature as it broke the surface of the still water. She saw the thick, leathery black hide as it flexed oily in the moonlight, then the plop of the massive tail, and the creature was gone.

The shriek rose from the frozen mass in her gut and burst from her in a rising cry of panic as she turned and half ran - half stumbled through the cloying earth and foliage.

Branches scratched at her clothing and flesh, as if reluctant to allow her passage. All about her, creatures took flight, scampers or slithered out of her path. More than once, she looked up into another set of cold, inhuman eyes before fleeing blindly in a different direction.

She finally collapsed in the middle of a small clearing, beneath the boughs of a huge gnarled tree.

Utterly terrified now, she raised her eyes and took in her surroundings.

On one side of the small patch of earth was a series of neatly stacked boxes, or crates of odd design. The three smaller ones were at one time white, now covered in a thin layer of dirt and grim, as if they had been dragged to the spot. Atop two of them rested a larger, coppery colored crate. This one was open, and within she could see various objects neatly placed on the divider within that now served as a shelf.

A single glowing orange lantern hummed nearby, giving off a palpable heat as well as illumination. She crawled to it and stretched out her hands to receive the blessed warmth as her eyes scanned the surroundings again. Everything was covered in a fine layer of damp mist, or concealed in shadow.

A strange throaty clucking noise sounded over head and she looked up to see two creatures coasting by on leathery wings. At the end of their long necks was not a head, but rather a large circular protuberance. They each pumped their wings once and continued past her, either oblivious to her presence, or simply unconcerned.

"Where am I?" she breathed aloud. Her voice sounded muffled, as if even it was afraid to venture far enough to resonate.

"Welcome to my mind, kiddo," a familiar voice echoed about her laced with humor. "Or, at least, one small part of it."

She looked towards the sound and saw him appear before her, as if walking out of the shadows, surrounded by a soft blue coronal sheen.

That interminable grin was still on his face as he hunkered down on one of the crates.

"So?" he asked, gesturing about him. "Better or worse?"

"I don't know yet," Hope answered truthfully. Her eyes darted about with each new, menacing noise.

Above her, in the branches, a large pale serpent gave an uncharacteristic throaty growl as it slithered further into the branches. Looking at the edge of the camp she saw a beetle, as large as her foot as it scuttled into a nearby rotting hollow trunk.

"Worse," she said, backing away. "Definitely worse."

"Oh, what a terrible thing to say," David replied. "You haven't seen the best part yet."

"I don't want to see it," Hope said, backing towards another of the small boxes and seating herself nervously. She shivered despite the warmth radiating from the nearby lantern.

David's shimmering bluish form rose and stepped over to the open crate. He withdrew a small narrow reddish brown box and flipped the lid open. Rummaging about inside, he drew out two small bars, and tossed one to her. She caught the thing reflexively and studied it. It seemed to be made of various nuts and berries pressed together into a hard, roughly rectangular mass.

David replaced the box and reseated himself, biting into the thing and chewing thoughtfully.

"I always thought these things were like granola bars."

"What is this place?" Hope asked as she took a cautious nibble. "And why do you look like that?"

David looked down at the shimmering blue light that surrounded him and shrugged. "Just paying homage to my boy, George, that's all." He grinned mischievously. "Welcome to Dagobah."

Hope frowned. "Day-ko-pa?" she tried to repeat the word.

"Close enough," David sighed.

"Whose things are these?" Hope continued.

"Oh, don't worry about that," David waved a hand in dismissal. "He'll be gone for some time now. Probably running about here, learning all his special Jedi arts, he is." Again that maddening grin. "He won't be back for a while."

"Why am I here?" Hope asked.

"Oh, that's a complex question, kiddo," David chuckled. "Why are any of us here?"

Hope felt some of her anxiety overwhelmed by frustration.

"For once," she snapped. "Can you give me a straight answer?"

David's smile melted away to something darker and a touch more sinister.

"Okay," he said. "You are here, because I figured you needed a break from the disco back there, that's why. You're in this place because your imagination isn't worth a shit, so I had to use something of mine. But you aren't getting anything of mine that is personal to me, just in case you're jerking my chain, so I used an image from someone else's imagination that I was privileged to see at one time. Straight enough for you?"

Then his gaze softened and he took another bite of food. "Besides, can't go from hell straight to heaven…you might go nuts. So I figured this would be as good as anything to serve as Purgatory."

"If you didn't trust me," Hope asked, still a little angry. "Why did you save me in the first place?"

"Because," David sighed. "Despite the fact that you are the illegitimate result of a spiritual rape by a fucked in the head God, you're still Gabrielle's daughter, and my step daughter by default." He took another bite. "Just because you're the dysfunctional part of the family, doesn't mean that you aren't still family."

He looked over at her. "And I take my family very, very seriously."

"But not seriously enough to be honest with me," Hope shot back.

"Honest?" Now it was David's turn to show some of his wrath. "Okay toots, you want honest, here it is. I don't trust you. I don't trust you as far as I could throw this dreamscape we're in. Every fiber of my being wanted to watch you go splat in that cell, but I couldn't do that. Not after seeing all the shit you've been dealing with over the last two years."

His rage cooled almost as fast as it had flared up. "And I don't have anything else to do, yet."

Hope looked at him sidelong, the dread in her belly taking on a new chill.

"Yet?" She asked. "What are you supposed to do?"

"For the moment," David answered. "I'm supposed to do my job as a father and make sure you don't get your ass handed to you on a plate."

Hope stood up, feeling a pressure in her chest building. "But why are you really here? Why have you really come back here?"

"You called to me, remember?" David replied, refusing to look at her.

"No," Hope stood up, all her discomfort lost as her mind began working. She studied him intently and understanding began to blossom. "You were going to come back again anyway, weren't you?"

He looked at her, his expression set in stone. "Was I?"

For someone so vocal, so animate to become so still and steady only solidified her understanding into certainty. "Who would you come back here for?" she asked knowingly. Her eyes went wide.

"Mother."

David merely shrugged.

"No!" she blurted suddenly. "No! You can't!"

She backed away from him in horror. In her mind, she screamed to awaken from this dream, but the reality remained steadfastly solid about her.

"You've been on the go for nearly two weeks, only collapsing from exhaustion when you can't stay awake any longer," David explained with a sly smile. "You won't wake up for several hours at least, by your reckoning. Could be months in this place, really."

The panic and rage was overwhelmed by sudden despair as she stared at this man and fully read his intention.

"Why do you think old Ian suggested that you come to her first, hm?" David offered. "It was because he knew, just like I do, that her clock was running down." He shrugged.

"But I just found her again!" Hope begged. "I've finally got a chance to know her the way I should, to be a part of her life, the way she always wanted me to be!"

"And you were ready to tuck tail and run away this morning!" David shot back vehemently. "You can't lie to me, Hope! Not here! You're scared to be out in the wide world on your own and you're scared of being rejected by your mother and family, AND you're the most afraid that you won't be rejected because that means dealing with a whole helluva lot of guilt on your side!"

He rose and towered over her, glaring down at her angrily. "You're all good talking about making amends for what you did! But you can't even start it without trying to run away! If your mother hadn't come out of that damned house this morning and stopped you, you'd have been half way to fucking Siberia by now!"

He took a few deep breaths and forced his anger back down. "And you'd have been dead in two days, because you don't have a clue as to how to protect yourself without big daddy D covering your ass!"

He stepped away and reseated himself, glaring at her. "Call me a liar. I fucking dare you."

Hope wilted as her own anger faded back to something more brutally internal.

"How much time does she have?" she asked helplessly.

"Scuse me?"

"Please!" Hope begged. "How much?"

David pursed his lips and leaned back slightly on the crate as if studying the young woman before him. He gave an almost imperceptible shrug.

The entire time, Hope's emotions had been alternating between peaks and valleys. Now, all of a sudden, a fierce protectiveness exploded within her heart. A sense of fury and fear that she could never remember even seeing before, let alone feeling.

She charged at him, crashing through the pale blue barrier of energy and lashed out at him with her fists. Unintelligible noises burst from her lips as she cried out in impotent fury.

Suddenly she felt his strong arms wrap around her shoulders, restraining her attacks as the emotions exploded out of her.

He whispered in her ear, trying to settle her down even as he held her fast. The fury expelled itself and she meekly beat on his arms and shoulders as she sobbed.

"Thanks, kiddo," he whispered in her ear after a while. "You've shown me everything I needed to know."

She looked up at him, despondent and confused.

"What you just showed me, here, was all I needed to see to prove to me that you've changed."

He set her down on one of the crates and wiped the tears from her eyes with his finger, and smiled gently.

"I can't tell you exactly when, baby," he said. "But she was right when she told your sister that this was the last time she'd be coming all the way out here to check on my storage box."

Hope shook her head, the tears rebuilding in her eyes.

"Shhh," David said as she opened her mouth to protest. "That's the way it is in life, Hope. Everything has to pass on at some point. Your mom is no exception."

"How long?" Hope asked.

"I can't tell you that," David said gently. "All I can tell you is that it will be soon, so you had better make the most of the time you have left."

"But I can't possibly make up for everything I did," Hope moaned.

"Baby," David smiled. "I couldn't make up for all the bullshit I pulled in my life if I lived to be a hundred years old. That's always the way it is." He shrugged again. "In the mean time, you have some personal demons to deal with."

"A lot of demons," Hope corrected him.

"Yeah," he replied. "And you have the best person in the world to help you do it." He placed a gloved hand against her cheek. "Use that. And remember this place when you go to sleep at night. When you don't find me here, then you'll know that it's time, okay?"

The pain was visible on her face even as she nodded.

"In the mean time," He went on. "You have a lot more to learn and a lot of old gifts to rediscover if you want a snowballs chance in hell of surviving, so, why don't we start working on that."

"We?" Hope asked.

"Well," David smiled. "It's either me, or my little green bud, Yoda?"

Again, Hope frowned. "Yoda?"

"Little green dude," David grinned. "Trains warriors, talks backwards, and is annoying as hell."

"And you aren't?" Hope replied, her smile breaking through the tears.

David stood up and grinned again. "Compared to him, I'm a freaking saint."

David rose and shook some moisture off his coat. He gestured with a nod of his head.

"Come on."

"Where are we going?" she asked, trying to ignore the sticky moisture that was causing her clothing to cling to her flesh.

"The obstacle course," David replied. "Just be quiet, we don't want to interrupt the others."

Again that damned grin.

"Now, I do need to point out," David continued. "That al lot of what you're going to hear in this place won't make sense, but the ideas are very similar. I'll try and modify things a bit to keep it real."

Hope frowned. "Modify?"

"Well," David replied, hunkering down in front of a large fallen tree. "You had a lot of special skills when Dahok was babbling in your head. Just because he's gone doesn't mean the skills are too."

Hope looked down at him. "What?"

"You were, technically, a high priestess, right?" David asked, looking up at her.

"Yes?"

"And those moves you used on me back in the front yard weren't exactly the moves of an amateur, right?" David continued. "You had to learn them from somewhere?"

"I did," Hope replied, suddenly feeling a little sheepish. "I learned them from you."

David smiled. "That's my point. Now, if you could do that then, why can't you do that now?"

Hope was about to say something when David grabbed her arm and pulled her down next to him behind the fallen tree. Hope grimaced as she felt the mud squish against her flesh and clothing.

"What are you," she began, but David held a finger to his lips, begging silence.

After a few minutes, Hope sat up straighter, hearing a sound she hadn't expected. It was the sound of footsteps running.

She looked over at David who merely held a finger to his lips again and winked.

As the footsteps neared, they both began to hear a voice speaking softly, though they couldn't make out what was being said.

Then the steps silenced suddenly and a figure vaulted over them in a superhuman leap. It flipped over once, landing on his feet and continued off at a sprint through the trees.

The man had been covered in a thin layer of grime. He wore a pair of tan pants, shirt and sturdy black boots. As he disappeared around a bend, Hope saw that a second, much smaller figure was tucked into the pack hanging from his shoulders.

Once Hope was certain that the two figures were out of earshot, she turned to David.

"Who was that?"

"Just another student in training," David smiled. "His name's Luke and the little frog on his back was the guy I warned you about."

"Yoda?"

"Yup."

"A demon?" Hope asked, looking at the space where the two figures had vanished.

David chuckled. "Sort of." He rose, and Hope noted that not a single bit of dirt had clung to his garments. For that matter, in spite of the humidity, he was still completely dry.

From somewhere above, the sound of thunder rolled across the sky. In the distance, through a gap in the trees, Hope could see deep dark clouds moving towards them. Violet flashes of light darted between the roiling mass.

"Come on, kiddo," David grinned. "Your turn on the obstacle course."

They followed the course of the previous runner and rounded a small bend in the path. There at the edge of the large stagnant pool stood the one David had identified as Luke. He was setting the pack down. The green creature pulled himself out of the pack and struggled to his feet, using a small wooden stick as a prop.

The two of them kept out of sight. Hope looked at the man curiously. He was tall and strong. His sandy blonde hair was a stringy sweaty mass as he breathed deeply, catching his breath.

"So," hope asked as she watched the young man seat himself on a rock and rest his elbows on his knees, obviously exhausted. "Who is he?"

"If all goes well," David replied, smiling. "He might wind up being your training partner." He rose again and pointed at the clearing.

"That's the end of the course," he smiled. "Come on. I'll show you the beginning. Then, it's time for you to run it."

"Run it?" Hope asked, feeling a sense of dread. "Through this place?"

"Yup," David nodded.

"But this is only a dream," Hope said nervously. "How will this help me?"

"It's real simple," David explained as they toiled through the dense undergrowth. "What the mind accomplishes, the body believes. You bust ass in here, you're body will adjust to it. You'll learn to control two worlds, for the most part, and that will give you some peace and some of the skills you'll need to survive in the waking world."

He turned and walked backwards in spite of the treacherous terrain. "How do you think you learned all the crap you did before?"

"They were gifts," Hope replied. "From my father."

"And in order for them to work, you had to be able to receive and translate those gifts to reality, right?" David said.

Hope shrugged, unsure of that little fact.

"The only problem is," David went on. "The only learning you had came from him. The only dreams you had to experience were the ones he gave you. You never got any of your own."

Hope ducked under an outstretched branch and almost slipped and fell into the muck.

"Hence the need for you to hitch a ride in one of my dreamscapes," David finished. "And if we're going to do this, we might as well do everything in one shot, right?"

"Ugh," Hope moaned as she stumbled forward and her hand vanished into a thick muddy pool.

"Okay then," She asked, looking at David, still completely untouched by moisture or mud. "Then explain how come you're not having the trouble moving through here that I am?"

David smiled and shrugged. "It is my dreamscape after all. Once you get a grasp of the basics, you'll be able to do the same thing." He lightly hopped twenty feet up to the top of a small drop and looked back down. "Give it a try." He offered.

"I can't jump that," Hope shot back.

"Why not?" David replied. "I just did."

"Like you said," Hope retorted. "This is your dreamscape!"

"All the rules that apply to me," David explained. "Also apply to you."

"Yeah, right," Hope muttered.

"And, likewise," David continued. "Anything you can do here, you can do, for the most part, in the waking world."

"So," Hope replied. "If I wanted to fly in the waking world, you're telling me I could?"

"Why not?" David replied. "It works for Criss Angel?"

He folded his arms and looked up at the sky. The dark mass of clouds was roiling over them, and the violet lightning arced across the sky. The thunder boomed.

"You going to try it, or not?" David asked impatiently.

Hope looked at the steep rise before her, the layers of mud intertwined with old roots. Amidst the earth, she could see small creatures scuttling to and fro within the mass.

"Okay," she thought. "I saw him do it. That means it can be done, right?" She looked back up at him and backed away a few paces. "Just think about it and it can happen. Focus your mind. Make it real."

She took a short running start and leapt…and slammed right into the wall of mud with a sickening squelch.

With a cry of dismay, she pulled herself out of the muck and tried to ignore David laughing from the rise above.

She was covered in dark muck from head to toe, her long golden hair hanging in ragged dirty strings. She cried out in dismay as she felt something wriggling in her hair and quickly extricated the insect with a frenzy of movement.

"Don't worry about it, Hope," David laughed. "No one gets it right the first time."

The first thick drops of rain began to fall from the darkening sky, and the thunder boomed again.

"Come on up," David said again. With a gesture, Hope felt herself lifted from the muddy earth and raised up to the top of the rise. She stood there, covered in grime, looking like a despondent, half drowned animal.

"You did that on purpose," she said angrily.

"I didn't do shit," David replied. "This is my dreamscape, yes, but you have the ultimate control over what you accomplish here, not me."

They continued walking through the rain till they reached the top of a small soggy hill. Hope stood there for a moment, allowing the cool water to wash some of the mud from her body.

When she looked down, she could see the rough path that the obstacle course wove through the trees. It seemed an inhuman distance to traverse with any speed.

Looking to the left, she saw a soft warm glow at the base of one large tree. She frowned.

"What's that?" she asked.

"What?" David followed her gaze. "Oh, that? That's Yoda's place."

He clapped his hands together and smiled. "Okay. Meet you down in the clearing."

"What?" Hope looked at him and then at the thick sheets of rain building around her. "Now?"

"Yes," David replied. He let his long coat fall to the muddy ground where it immediately vanished. Beneath he was wearing a simple pair of denim pants, a black tank top, and tough looking utilitarian black boots.

"See you in a little bit." He nodded. As Hope watched, his hair and clothing began absorbing the water falling around them. He grinned, crouched and then darted off at a full run, leaping over the rise with inhuman grace. And then he was gone.

Hope ran to the edge of the first drop, only a mere six feet high, and looked down as David traversed the course with sure steps.

She watched how he made his way through some of the terrain, making a few mental notes, and then she backed up and got a good running start as she followed him.

She fell, more than jumped the first rise, tripped countless times and spent several long moments scrabbling on all fours like one of the countless reptiles she saw slinking around her.

When she finally came stumbling into the clearing some time later, she was bone weary, covered in scrapes and scratches from the unyielding branches. Her clothing was ripped in several places, and she had a limp from a twisted ankle. She was soaked to the bone, and the rain still hadn't let up.

Seated on a log, under the sheltering boughs of a tree, was David and the small green figure she had seen earlier.

It turned its gentle blue eyes toward her as she emerged. His long pointy ears stretched upward as his eyes widened slightly in curiosity, or perhaps amusement. White wisps of hair trailed from his wrinkled head. Up close, the small creature looked positively ancient.

"Ah," he said as she limped towards them. Something like a bemused smile appeared. "Your Padawan, this is, I take it?"

David chuckled and brushed his soaked hair from his eyes.

"Yes, sir," He replied, smiling. "What do you think?"

Hope tried not to look as miserable as she felt. She even managed to stand a little straighter.

The figure hobbled down off his perch and moved slowly towards her, leaning on his cane as he went. His gentle blue eyes studied her critically.

"Mm," he considered, looking her up and down. "Strong, but also touched with darkness she is, yes."

He turned and looked back at David critically. "Much work you have ahead of you."

David shrugged. "I got time."

Hope gulped. She felt considerably uneasy under his deep searching gaze.

"But will she finish what is begun?" he asked, turning to look at her again. "Many troubles I see. Many fears."

"Well, I never said it would be a fast fix," David replied.

"Mm," Yoda nodded again and turned away, moving slowly through the trees.

He paused after a few moments and turned back to face them.

His eyes fixed on her again, and then on David in turn.

"If council you seek," he added. "Then come to me, you may. For now, rest she seems to need." He turned back and continued on his way. "Yes, rest."

"Yeah," David nodded. "I think you've seen enough for one night."

Even as he spoke, she could feel the reality of the dream slipping away. The conscious world wanted back in.

"Time to wake up now," David whispered. Everything fell into blackness and then faded into the red of light behind her eyelids.


	6. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Hope rolled onto her side and groaned as she slowly returned to consciousness. Every muscle in her body burned.

Groggily, she sat up and rubbed her eyes with one hand. Beyond the window of her room, she could see stars twinkling in the evening sky. The moon rose, deep orange, from behind the distant hills.

She gasped as pain shot up her leg the moment she put her foot on the floor.

"What the mind believes, the body feels," she groaned. Until that moment, she had been skeptical of David and his motives in the dreamscape. The pain in her ankle was all the proof she required.

Gently, she rose and hobbled out into the main room of the cabin.

The fire was crackling in the hearth as she emerged. She saw Xena and her mother deep in conversation. Both of them stopped talking at the creak of the board beneath Hope's feet.

Xena looked back and her eyes went wide for only a moment, as if she were surprised at something.

Hope looked down at her foot and saw, for the first time, the myriad of scratches on her arms.

Gabrielle had a similar expression, though hers showed more concern than Xena.

"What the hell happened to you?" Xena asked more out of curiosity than any genuine concern.

"Long story," Hope replied thickly. She took a few more hobbling steps into the living room and practically allowed herself to fall into the old armchair.

Gabrielle frowned in concern. "Have you been outside? I thought you were asleep?"

Hope said nothing. Her mind and heart were in turmoil and the words wouldn't form as she looked at Gabrielle.

Something in her heart told her that David wasn't lying when he said that she was nearing the end of her life. She looked weary, beaten down by years of struggle and grief.

Hope instantly realized that a large portion of that burden was her doing.

"I," she began, looking at the two of them. "It's a long story." She finally managed to say.

"I'll bet," Xena scoffed and marched off towards the old kitchen.

Gabrielle smiled. "But I bet it's an interesting one?" She finished, trying to smooth over Xena's icy comment.

Hope reached down and massaged her sore ankle.

As Gabrielle watched her, she could almost feel the struggle within Hope as she was trying to cope with everything in her mind. As much as she had put on the front for Xena, a part of her desperately wanted to believe that Hope's conversion was genuine.

She watched a little longer, seeing the struggle in her daughters face. Finally she couldn't take any more.

"What is it, Hope?" she asked.

Hope sat back up, but did not meet Gabrielle's gaze. "I know the two of you don't believe me, and I can understand if you never do." She started. Then her voice caught and she looked up at Gabrielle and after a visible internal struggle. "I don't know where to start." She admitted finally. "There are so many things I want to say, and I can't, they just, the words aren't there!"

Gabrielle leaned forward and suddenly placed her hand over Hope's.

"Try."

The emotion built again, still so unfamiliar and uncontrollable.

"I fell like my heart is about to explode!" she burst out. "You'll never believe anything I say, never trust me! I'll never know what it's like to." She stopped suddenly. Sniffing, she looked down.

"The only good memory I have in my life," she said slowly. "The only thing I remember is your voice." She smiled a bitter smile.

"You were singing me to sleep, when I was a baby."

Gabrielle's eyes went wide with surprise, but she kept herself steady.

"After that," Hope continued. "All I remember is Dahok's voice, in my mind, driving me toward…you know."

"I know," Gabrielle said reassuringly. "Go on."

Hope took a few deep breaths, trying to maintain some semblance of composure.

"Once his voice was gone," she continued. "There wasn't anything left. Nothing at all. And I started to realize…I began to understand…I knew everything I had done in my life was wrong! But it was too late! I couldn't go back and change it! I couldn't make it right!"

"No you can't, Hope," Gabrielle said. There was a sudden touch of ice in her voice, as much as she tried to hide it.

"Of all the people I've harmed," Hope admitted. "I've hurt you the most. All I can say is that I'm sorry, but I know that will never be enough. I'm sorry for what I did to you, sorry for what happened to Solan, all those years ago, sorry about all the things I did, all the people, this place, your husband," she was breaking down even as she spoke.

Hope looked up and saw Xena moving toward her, her leather shining in the light of the fire.

Xena stepped before her and knelt down, looking into Hope's eyes.

Hope sniffed and wiped at her cheeks.

"I don't know how this will all work out," Xena said quietly. Hope frowned, confused.

Xena held a hand out to her.

Gabrielle looked between her two daughters with a mixture of relief and amazement. This was the last thing she was expecting from Xena.

Tentatively, Hope reached out and let her hand slip into her sisters, looking between Xena and Gabrielle as if she were afraid all this might be some twisted dream.

"Come here," Xena said, pulling her into an embrace. "We got a lot to work out, you and me." Xena said in her ear, even as she felt Hope begin to tremble. "And I'm not promising we won't be at each other's throats. But I'm willing to try, if you are?"

She felt Hope nod as her cheek rested on her shoulder.

Gabrielle's own eyes welled up and she reached out, putting a hand on each of her children.

Nothing was said for a very long time. Nothing more needed to be said. The words wouldn't have been enough.

The night was old by the time they had all regained their composure enough to have something to drink and speak of matters other than those of the heart.

"How did you twist your ankle?" Xena asked as she refilled a small cup with water from a nearby pail.

"You wouldn't believe me," Hope shook her head. "In some ways, I still don't believe it."

"Your nightmare again?" Gabrielle asked.

"Not exactly," Hope answered uneasily. There was a chance that this subject might reopen the emotional dam again, but for Xena and Gabrielle more so than her.

"Well?" Xena asked. "Let's hear it?"

"I was dreaming," Hope replied. "In a place called Daobah, or something like that."

Xena froze and Gabrielle straightened in her seat.

Hope looked between them nervously. "David took me there. He took me out of the nightmare and put me somewhere else."

Xena smiled suddenly. "My dad did that?"

Hope nodded, feeling that palpable regret forming again.

"Hey," Gabrielle said, seeing the change in expression on Hope's face. "It's alright."

"He," Hope went on. "He pulled me out of the nightmare I've been having, and put me in his, um, dreamscape. That was the word he used."

"Yeah," Xena nodded. "He did that with me and Alexander all the time."

"And where did he take you?" Gabrielle asked, smiling.

"All kinds of places that he remembered," Xena answered. "Real places and imagined ones."

"He said that he could show me things," Hope continued. "Help me learn how to survive."

Gabrielle nodded. "It's strange, but he is right. It does work."

"How is he doing that?" Hope asked.

Gabrielle sat back and thought for a moment. "David was a powerful priest. He could do things that no one else her ever could. A lot of the things he did were unique to him and him alone."

"He knew how to manipulate the energy that surrounds people," Xena added. "That was how he beat you, remember?"

Hope shuddered at the memory. David leaping towards her, his katana flashing in the sunlight. She could feel the waves of energy emanating from him, in spite of his advanced age. He moved like a man much younger than he was. Each attack sapped a bit more of her strength, weakening the control her unholy father exerted over her. She could feel his influence slipping, the sound of his voice fading each time she was forced to defend herself.

It hadn't been the results of his attacks that had alarmed her the most. It hadn't even been the fact that he was more skilled in combat than any man his age should have been.

It had been the fire in his eyes, the sheer ferocity of his relentless assault that had given her the first taste of fear that she had ever experienced.

In her entire life, she had confronted countless victims, seen the fear in their eyes, even felt it, like a tonic that she had relished. If the fear of her victims had been sweet and intoxicating, then his complete lack of it had left a bitter tang in her mouth.

It wasn't until her final, desperate counterattack that she realized he had been sapping her dark energy and storing it in himself. He had allowed her power to feed him, increasing his strength until the final moment when she had run her weapon through his chest.

She felt a sudden pain in her left side as she recalled his deliberate attack, even as he saw the point of her weapon lashing out towards his chest. His quick steps had carried him towards her, impaling himself upon her outstretched weapon.

He ran himself upon her blade!

She looked at Xena and Gabrielle, staring at her curiously as she had drifted back into the memory.

Her eyes went wide with the realization. Dare she present this revelation to the two people seated before her.

In that moment, it all clicked into place. The reason why she was disconnected from her dark father was completely clear now. It had been the energy released by David in that final moment. Not just the energy he had taken from her, but his life energy in concert with everything else. That powerful jolt had changed her in some way, cutting her off from Dahok and his control. She was the same person, with a portion of David intermingled with her soul.

That was why she couldn't hear Dahok any more. That was the reason why David was able to pull her into his own dream worlds. That was why all these emotions, repressed during her incarceration, had surfaced with such fire in these few weeks.

Her mouth dropped open in shock, even as Gabrielle began nodding, a knowing expression on her face.

Xena looked back and forth between them, frowning in confusion.

"Uh, what's going on?" she asked.

"I think Hope is beginning to understand things," Gabrielle said with uncharacteristic calm. "She might be ready."

Hope stood up.

"What's going on here?" She asked.

The confusion melted from Xena's face, replaced by a knowing look of her own.

"You think so?"

Hope looked from one impassive expression to the other, a knot of cold dread beginning to coalesce in her belly. Something about this entire situation was wrong, somehow. There was a touch of non reality to it beyond the strange look and unspoken understanding between Gabrielle and Xena.

The two other women remained motionless, staring up at her curiously.

"What's the matter?" Xena asked.

"That was too easy. The whoel thing was too simple, too much of what I really want to be real. Who are you?" Hope asked, stepping backward towards the door. "Where's my mother?"

One of Gabrielle's eyebrows rose slightly in amusement.

"You're not her," Hope said as the certainty knotted in a cold clot in the middle of her chest.

The two figures shimmered and faded, vanishing like mist, even as the surroundings began to fade away and she found herself standing, once again, on that desolate, barren plain, looking at the ominous temple that housed her torment.

"No!" she cried.

Hope sat up, once again in the bed, the early morning sunlight streaming in through the open window. Her body was covered in a layer of cold sweat.

Somewhere n the distance, she heard deep, ominous laughter echoing around her. Dread formed in her belly as she recognized it.

Dahok.

The door burst open, and Xena came in, sword in hand.

"What happened?" she demanded.

She relaxed when she saw Hope's disheveled appearance.

"Nightmare again?" she asked coldly.

Hope nodded.

Xena sheathed her sword and sighed.

"We're getting ready to head back to Amphipolis," Xena continued. "You can come along, if you want."

There was nothing inviting in the invitation. It was simply a statement.

"That's definitely her," Hope thought, groaning as she got to her feet, and once again felt the pain in her ankle.

She gathered her things and packed up the blankets, the feeling of dread building in her heart.

When she emerged from the house, she found Gabrielle already seated in the saddle and Xena tying down the last of her belongings on her own horse.

In the distance, at the edge of the sky, she could see the dark ominous billowing of storm clouds.

She stepped past the two of them, gazing at the building storm with trepidation.

The others followed her and turned their eyes towards the sky.

Thunder rolled from the distance.

"Looks like we might get wet," Xena noted.

As Hope turned back to face them, her gaze swept across the cold ruins of Poditea. In a flash, she saw it as she had left it, smoke billowing from countless fires. Bodies lay strewn on the road leading towards the house. The bodies of her fallen priests lay around her feet in the yard. Then, in a flash again, the image was gone.

The air burst from her lungs expelling some of the terror she was feeling.

"You coming?" a voice asked her.

She started, turning to face Xena, looking down at her from astride her mount.

"What?" Hope asked.

"Are you coming, or not?" Xena asked again.

The horse stamped impatiently.

Hope nodded, trying to control the fear knotting her gut. She took a step towards them.

"_Kill them!"_

She stopped in her tracks and caught her breath.

Looking back up at Gabrielle and Xena, she saw them both frown. Her mother with concern, Xena with outright suspicion.

"What?" Xena asked.

Hope didn't know what to say. Her mind was reeling from her vision of a few moments before.

Xena rolled her eyes and kicked her horse, moving past her towards the gate.

Hope could almost feel the wave of cold as she passed her.

"You can ride with me," Gabrielle offered.

Hope looked up at her mother and their eyes met for a long moment.

Gabrielle could see the sudden fear in her eyes.

"Are you alright?"

Hope nodded quickly.

"Come on," Gabrielle extended a hand to her to help her up.

Tentatively, Hope reached up and took the proffered hand.

With surprising ease, Gabrielle helped Hope up.

She settled onto the horse behind her mother. The horse nickered a little in protest at the extra weight before trotting off after Xena.

The three of them moved up through the ruins of the town. Hope gazed about her, the images of the present and the past, flashing before her eyes with maddening intensity.

She felt something like panic beginning to writhe inside her.

She tried to fix her eyes forward, to no avail, or close them, trying to will the memories away. But nothing worked.

The churning in her belly grew and grew with nauseating deliberation.

Finally, she could bare it no more. She dropped from the back of the horse, stumbled a few steps away behind the broken corner of a building and bent double as the gorge rose.

Xena reined her horse as she heard the choking noises from behind her.

She brought her horse back next to her mothers and looked at the bent figure a few paces away.

"Still think this is an act?" Xena asked.

Gabrielle shook her head slowly. "The more I watch her. The more I believe it isn't."

Xena winced sympathetically when she heard another series of chokes and the splatter as the vomit ejected from Hope's belly.

Hope wiped her mouth off and tried to stand back up. When she looked back at the others, she saw the tail end of Xena's sympathetic expression.

"You okay?" Xena asked.

In spite of the pain in her gut, Hope nodded.

"Good," Xena replied. "Let's go."

"Xena," Gabrielle chided.

Xena turned her horse and resumed her march through the ruins.

Gabrielle waited and helped Hope back up onto the horse.

They left the ruins of Poditea behind and traveled for a good three hours before the first thick drops of rain began to fall.

Lightning arced across the sky with brilliant pale green flashes, and the thunder rolled above them.

Hope tried to ignore the incessant water dripping into her eyes, instead focusing on the terrain. As she turned her head, her gaze moved past the back of Gabrielle's neck.

Instantly, her father's voice boomed again in her ear.

"_Kill her!"_

She jerked in fright, and nearly fell off the back of the horse.

Gabrielle turned her head back to look over her shoulder.

"Hope?"

"Nothing," Hope lied quickly. "Nothing."

She could almost hear Dahok's laughter with each boom of thunder above.

"_You are mine! You have always been mine! Your will is my will! You are mine! You will always be mine! Kill them! Destroy any who oppose my will! Show no mercy! No compassion! Be the master of destiny that you were born to be!"_

Again that laughter thundered between her ears, gaining strength with each passing moment. Dark fingers began to wrap around her soul.

In panic, Hope dropped again from the back of the horse and fled, even as the urge to kill her mother began to assert itself with its old icy inevitability.

"No!" she cried.

"Hope!" Gabrielle shouted.

Xena turned around and saw Hope vanish into the foliage.

Gabrielle dropped to the ground and followed as fast as she could.

"Hope!" she called again. Her voice was drowned out by another roll of thunder. "Hope!"

The rain fell in blinding sheets as the heavens were wreathed in fire and thunder.

Hope fled deeper into the woods, her arm held before her, shielding her face from the clawing branches.

"_Destroy them!"_ Dahok's voice bellowed louder in her ears. _"Destroy them now!"_

Suddenly, the trees vanished and she found herself in the middle of a small clearing. Rain fell in a torrent around her. The heavens blazed.

"Leave me alone!" Hope cried out.

"_Hear me!"_ the voice boomed in her mind. _"Take your strength from me as you have always done!"_

Hope clapped her hands over her ears and dropped to the ground. "Stop!"

Xena caught up with Gabrielle and the two of them jogged through the forest, following the sound of Hope's cries between the booms of thunder.

The both came to a halt when they saw her, on her knees, her hands squeezing her head desperately.

"Leave me alone!"

Xena's hand drifted to her sword hilt as the two of them moved toward her.

Hope's eyes locked on Gabrielle and widened in fear.

"Get away!" She begged. "I can hear him! I can hear him again!"

Xena stepped protectively in front of Gabrielle.

Hope saw her hand on her weapon.

"Kill me!" she begged. "Just kill me!"

Xena looked down at her in disbelief.

Hope could feel the unholy power reawakening in her, rising like a cold tide, in spite of her desperate attempt to stem it.

Dahok was filling her soul again. The icy detachment was asserting itself, and her newly found conscience was being strangled away.

Xena drew her sword and stepped forward.

"Just do it!" Hope begged. "I can't stop him! I can't! I can't!"

She squeezed her eyes shut as if in pain and shrieked as she battled to keep her mind from fragmenting into madness.

Xena felt her heart pounding in her chest. Before her was the creature that had ruined two lives, killed her father, tortured her best friend, and wrought untold havoc on the world she knew. The vengeful side of her wanted to kill her. She wanted to settle the debt. But as she looked down at this tortured being, she realized that the Hope she wanted to kill was not before her. At least, not yet.

"Do it!" Hope screamed. "Do it! Do it! Do it!" she was sobbing in desperation.

Dahok's rage blocked out everything in her mind. It was a deafening cacophony of roaring madness, ripping away her very soul and converting her back into the heartless automaton that she had been before.

She shrieked in terror.

Suddenly, something warm and gentle touched her arms and a single word broke through the maelstrom.

"_Hope."_

"Just kill me!" Hope begged. "Just kill me!"

"_Hope, look at me."_

She felt the icy grip of Dahok slip a little, and opened her eyes.

When she looked up, her gaze locked on the deep green eyes of her mother.

Somewhere in that intense gaze, Hope suddenly felt a new reservoir of strength build.

"You don't have to listen to him any more," Gabrielle continued slowly.

"He's still there," Hope sobbed. "He still wants me to –"

"You don't have to listen to him anymore," Gabrielle repeated a little more forcefully. "You are your own person. You've always been your own person. He can't make you do anything you don't want to do."

The bellowing voice faded away and the icy fear that had been clawing up through her soul seemed to wash off in the warm summer rain.

"How did you do that?" Hope croaked.

Gabrielle smiled. "I'm your mother."

She helped the trembling girl to her feet and wrapped her arm about Hope protectively.

Xena watched them go, oblivious to the rain.

"Well," she said to herself as she slid her weapon back into its sheath. "That was different."

They took shelter from the storm beneath a small outcropping of stone that jutted out over part of the road.

Hope shivered in spite of the warm air as the moisture cooled in the wind. Her eyes scanned the woods across the road from them, watching as the mists writhed and drifted along the ground. Instantly, she was reminded of that strange dream world David had shown her.

She hadn't even realized that she had dropped off until she heard the familiar alien clucking call of the strange winged lizards echo over her head. Her eyes snapped open and she looked about. The rain was falling in the same torrential downpour as her waking world.

Violet lightning arced across the sky and the thunder rolled.

Standing beneath a nearby tree, a cigar smoldering between his clenched teeth, stood David with a wry grin on his face.

"You!" Hope's anger blazed suddenly. "What are you doing to me?"

David pointed at himself and gave her an innocent look. "What are you talking about?"

"You said I would wake up!" Hope shouted at him angrily. "And when I finally did, my father's voice was back in my head!"

"What do you mean, finally did?" David asked.

"I," Hope stammered. Some of her anger melting into confusion. "I woke up twice."

"Twice?" David repeated, and then a smile began to spread on his face. "Ah, you mean you were still dreaming, and you dreamt that you woke up."

"You manipulated me!" Hope's anger reasserted itself. "You put me there, in a situation where my mother and sister would accept what I said!"

"Slow down there," David held up a hand to forestall further protest.

"You put me in the middle of another lie!"

"That's enough!" David bellowed suddenly with such ferocity that his voice boomed through the trees and caused Hope to jump in fright.

"You want to come at me with attitude, little girl," David growled, his eyes dark with fury. "You better have the balls to back it up!"

Hope remembered the first time that gaze had settled upon her, in front of her mother's home. There, David had been an old man, in his sixties, and still the dark fire in his eyes had been unsettling, even with Dahok's power to control. Now, without such tools to avail her, and seeing the same man, in his prime, the gaze was truly frightening.

He removed the cigar from between his teeth, smoke issuing from his nostrils, and spat out a small intrusive piece of leaf. Then he looked back and held her in that gaze for a few seconds longer before turning away and stepping off to one side.

"You said you dreamed that you woke up?" he asked after several deep breaths.

"Yes," Hope answered, forcing her own anger back down.

"And your mother and sister were there?" David continued.

"Yes," Hope replied.

"And everything went perfectly," David concluded. "You got to say everything on your mind, and they accepted it unquestioningly."

Hope nodded, remembering the illusion.

David turned back. "Until you recognized something different about them, right?"

Again, Hope nodded. "They were too forgiving. They didn't even seem to feel sorrow when I mentioned you. Every time mother even refers to you, I can see the pain in her eyes. This time, it wasn't there."

"Really?" David mused.

"Then mother said she thought I was beginning to understand things." Hope finished. "What did she mean? It was like they were both up to something?"

David shrugged. "Well, if you see them again, you should ask them."

He stepped forward. "Dreamed that you woke up, huh?" he repeated as if to himself. He chuckled. "That's pretty good. You're picking up on things faster than I expected."

Hope frowned. "Things? What things?"

"You created your first dreamscape, kiddo," David grinned. "You took something familiar and wrapped your mind around it, molding it into what you wanted. Pretty impressive for a rookie."

"I did?" Hope asked. "I made that?"

"Yup," David answered. Then he stroked his whiskers thoughtfully. "But you also left a window open for the others to come in and communicate with you. That can be dangerous at times, still, we can work on that. If I had to venture a guess, and seeing that expectant look in your eyes, I assume you want me too, I would have to say that you also received your first visit from your spirit guides as well."

"Spirit Guides?" Hope frowned

"We all have spirit guides, kiddo," David explained. "But it's kind of hard to hear them when you have someone shouting 'Kill them!' in your ears."

Hope nodded. "I felt like I was going mad," she said. "I could hear him shouting in my head when I woke up, and it was like everything I had been before was coming back to," she stopped suddenly when she realized David was referring to her waking episode.

"Wait a second," she said, her gaze darkening. "How do you know about that?"

David put the cigar back in his mouth and grinned. Then he stretched his arms out and let loose with a bellowing laugh that reverberated through the trees and set the ground to trembling. Then he looked at her with a strange light in his eyes.

When he spoke, the voice of Dahok thundered around them.

"Kill them! Kill them both and let's go have a beer!" He roared in the voice of her unholy father. Then he smiled again and gave her a wink.

"It was you?" Hope hissed in outrage. "You did that to me?"

"The funny thing is," David shrugged. "I should have been able to completely overwhelm you, considering how much your powers have atrophied. But I couldn't. You fought me harder than I had expected. I'm not saying you would have beaten me in the end but you were bound and determined. When you started telling your sister to kill you, I realized that you don't want to go back into Dahok's service at any cost. And now, I think your mother and sister understand that too. Congratulations on passing your first exam."

Hope's eyes went dark as a stormy sea. "You put me through that?" she asked, her voice tight with fury.

"Just chill," David began, but suddenly, he was flying back through the trees. He broke through the foliage, arced smoothly over the large stagnant pool, and landed in the mucky water with a tremendous splash.

David bobbed to the surface, his ruined cigar disintegrating in between his fingers and he struggled back to the drier land.

Hope's eyes were wide with amazement. Since the loss of her abilities and her disconnection from Dahok, she had not been able to accomplish anything like that.

As she saw the waterlogged figure stumble out of the mire, his eyes fixed on her with unholy fury and her amazement began to transform into something more akin to dread.

"Oh boy," she breathed.

David was chuckling, but there was no humor in it.

"Okay," he growled. He tossed the ruined cigar to the ground. "Okay. That's how you want it? It's all on now!"

With a grunt, David flung his arm out in her direction. Instantly, the earth exploded in a long, running furrow, heading straight towards her. Hope dove clear, turned, and fled.

"**_You're gonna wish your daddy was here to bail your scrawny ass out now, you little_** **_shit!"_** David's voice thundered all around her.

Hope ran so fast, she doubted that her feet were even touching the ground. She ducked this way and that, leaping over fallen trees and rocks, or diving through twisted masses of brambles.

Her mind was filled with nothing but panic, all her instincts were in full flourish as she fled the thunderous booming of David's voice and the maelstrom of destruction that pursued her. Looking behind, she could hear him following, like a gale. Trees and masses of debris were sent skyward as he blasted a path through the swamp.

Violet lightning wreathed the sky in purple fire, and thunder deafened her.

She was only vaguely aware that she was running backwards along the section that David had dubbed 'the Obstacle Course'.

The infamous rise was approaching. Without even slackening her pace, she leapt, clearing the rise by a good five feet and landing squarely on her feet before resuming her mad dash.

She rounded a bend and skidded to a halt when she saw the familiar, little alien figure of the one called Yoda, seated on a rotting tree trunk, his cane absently scraping lines in the mud.

Her eyes were wide with panic, and her breath was heaving.

The small creature turned his gentle blue eyes in her direction and his long pointy ears rose in amusement as he smiled.

"Much power you have, youngling," he said appreciatively. "A taste of it, you have felt, now, yes?"

"What?" she gasped. "Look, you need to get out of here! Any second and David is going to come through here! I really made him angry!"

Yoda gave a hoarse little chuckle.

"Anger you perceived, yes," he said. "But not anger he felt."

The sound of slow clapping startled her and she wheeled around to see David leaning against a tree, perfectly dry, with his cigar once again clenched in his teeth.

He grinned and his eyebrows bounced once.

"See what you can do when you don't think?" he asked.

Looking past him at the rough path back down to the small pool, she saw no hint of the destruction that David had been creating with his outburst.

"What?" Hope gasped, not sure if she should be angry. "You mean?"

"You just tore through a half mile of swamp, with trees, thorn bushes, mud, and water," David continued. "And look at yourself. Not a mark on you."

Hope looked down, and despite a thin layer of sweat from her exertion, she was unmarred by her flight through the foliage.

"How did I?" she stammered, now completely amazed.

"Because you didn't think," David explained. He saw her expression and his amusement grew until he was laughing aloud.

"I needed to motivate you, so," he shrugged. "I did what I do best."

"What?" Hope asked. "Scare me half to death?"

"Pissed you off first, thought," David grinned

"I thought you were going to kill me," Hope said, some of her anger reasserting itself.

David shrugged. "Ah, fear," he said. "The ultimate motivator."

Suddenly, the three of them looked up towards the sky, as if listening. Hope felt a strange, elastic sensation in her body.

"Whoops," David sighed. "This is your wakeup call."

Hope blinked and tensed as she felt Xena's hand on her shoulder.

"Hey?" Xena asked. "You alright? You don't look so good."

Hope noticed, for the first time, that there wasn't so much ice in Xena's voice.

She nodded and struggled to her feet, feeling the burn of her ethereal exertions in her limbs. She groaned.

"What's wrong?" Gabrielle asked as she watched Hope rising stiffly.

"I'm just tired," Hope replied. "And I still don't feel very good."

A sudden sneeze burst violently from her. The convulsive move sent a small shower of water from her drenched clothing and hair.

Xena looked up at her mother and then to the sky, blinking away the raindrops.

"The storm is breaking," she said. "We can change into some dry clothes once it passes."

Hope shivered as she realized that the clothing on her back were the only garments she owned.

Gabrielle noticed her despairing look and smiled. "I have some stuff you can borrow. I'm pretty sure it will fit."

As the rain died to nothing more than a heavy drizzle, Gabrielle reached into her saddlebag and pulled one of her thick blankets free, handing it back to the girl seated behind her.

"Wrap this about you until we stop," she said sincerely. "Otherwise you'll catch your death of cold."

Hope took the blanket and wrapped it around her shoulders, her eyes looking ahead at her mother with wonder.

Even with all the crimes she had committed and the harm she had done to Gabrielle, there was never anything insincere in her words.

Her actions and concern were genuine, selfless and warm.

"How do you do that?" Hope asked suddenly, speaking her internal musing aloud.

"Do what?" Gabrielle asked, looking back at her.

It took a moment for Hope to frame her thoughts into a coherent question.

"You know everything that I've done," she finally said. "And in spite of that, you're still nice to me."

Gabrielle shrugged. "With everything I've seen since you appeared. I'm beginning to believe that you do want to change. What would be the point of keeping you down? Your stepfather wouldn't have wanted that."

"What was he like?" Hope asked suddenly. "Where did he come from?" Then she stopped suddenly. "Sorry."

Gabrielle looked back at her, her expression a mixture of pride and remembered pain.

"Do you really want to know?" Gabrielle asked her.

Hope nodded. "If you're willing to tell me?"

Gabrielle looked forward, an almost wistful smile on her face. Some of her fading radiance returned as she thought back. "Gods, where to begin."

As Xena's horse strode a few yards ahead, she looked back occasionally and saw her mother and Hope deep in conversation. The thing she found most disconcerting was the way that Hope seemed to be enraptured with whatever Gabrielle said. It was as if the young doppelganger was intent on absorbing any and all the information that Gabrielle was willing to impart.

At first, her suspicions screamed in her mind, urging her to take action. Separate the two of them, keep Hope closer to her instead of with her elderly mother. The darker thoughts came with visions of Hope lying asleep and never waking in the morning, a knife through her heart, or a broken neck while she slumbered. She forced those ideas away.

As the hours progressed, however, she began to notice something remarkable about the two people nearby.

First was the fact that her mother, her best friend in a previous life, had begun to come back to life in some ways.

Despite being nearly sixty years of age, and that she had been battling a fatigue that bordered on chronic for the previous six months, Gabrielle was more alive and animate than she had been for quite a while. She was remembering her life with David, and it was reawakening some of her old passion. She was smiling again, even laughing at times. She had the wistfulness of someone in love showing in her face once more. It was as if years of weight and burden were being shed.

At times, Xena would hear snatches of the conversation, and smile at the memories Gabrielle reawakened in her mind.

The second thing was how much Hope genuinely seemed to want to hear the tales. She hung on every word, every emotion that Gabrielle's remembrances conveyed, as if she were trying to somehow gain those feeling vicariously through the telling. Her eyes were filled with wonder and curiosity, just like Gabrielle had been back when Xena had first begun to travel with her. She asked countless questions, or requested numerous clarifications on various subtle points.

Even as she listened to her mother speak, and asked her questions, attempting to sate a ravenous curiosity, Xena also noticed that Hope became more animate as well, more emotionally committed, more open, and…dare she admit it…more normal?

The day's travel ended just before sundown, and the conversation much later in the evening.

They shared an evening meal, their conversation flowing like an unending river of memories and experiences.

Throughout all of this, Xena maintained a discreet distance, allowing them the privacy she felt they needed, while also maintaining her own, icy detachment.

Still, the more she observed, the more she realized that she wasn't going to find those subtle, telling signs of duplicitous ness that she expected. A small portion of her mind still clung to the possibility, looking for anything to exploit. Everything about Hope was genuine. Even the blossoming smiles that seemed so unfamiliar on her hauntingly familiar features. It was hauntingly like watching her old companion from a life past slowly returning to life. The more Hope stayed near Gabrielle. The more Hope listened to the stories and the life experiences of her mother, the more like her mother she became. The only times it ceased were those occasions when she looked over at Xena and saw the icy distrust in her expression that she sobered suddenly, but even in those 'caught in the act' expressions, Xena could see memories of her mother as the young, impressionable bard that she had taken under her wing all those years ago. The unease between them grew even as Hope's bond with her mother began to strengthen.

"Only a matter of time," Xena thought coldly. "Before we have our little confrontation."


	7. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

The room was two levels high, with a narrow balcony that left a large rectangular open court in the center of the structure.

The entire edifice was constructed of finely crafter wooden beams, polished glassy smooth and a deep rich brown. The wooden floor beneath her feet was similarly smooth and worn by years of use.

Thin veils of white paper covered the gaps between the rich wooden framework, keeping the outside elements at bay, and the rich red timbers holding up the roof, angled arrow like above her head.

Hope frowned, looking about the place. On several wooden stands, weapons of various designs rested or hung patiently.

"This isn't Dagobah," she said aloud.

Looking down, she was startled to realize that her own clothing had changed as well.

She was barefoot, dressed in a simple white, two piece outfit. The pants were loose and light, and the tunic was wrapped about her shoulders and tied by a simple black belt at her waist.

"Very sharp," David answered from the opposite side of the room. He hadn't been there a second ago.

Like her, he was dressed in a simple two piece outfit, though his was black, with white trim and a white belt about his waist.

David grinned. "Here's the bottom line, kiddo. This place is just like the waking world, without the bad weather. It's where you're going to learn how to defend yourself.

He stepped forward. "Provided, of course that you're willing to trust me a bit?"

For the first time, Hope noticed the subtle tint of gray in David's hair, mostly at the temples. His face was a little less full, and the wrinkles at the corners of his eyes and mouth seemed slightly more defined.

David held his left hand to her. "What do you say?"

She reached up and clasped his hand.

"Good," David said, flexing his fingers. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. "Everything is energy, Hope." He explained. "And energy can be manipulated, molded, or changed to fit any person or place." He shrugged. "Even these places and lessons are energy. Memories and skills retained in your mind, are energy. Memories in my mind are energy, and so, can be altered to fit other people, such as yourself." He shrugged. "After that, it's only a matter of calling those memories, those instincts to the conscious mind and activating them." He tapped his temple. "What the mind perceives?"

Hope nodded, understanding. "The body believes."

David grinned. "Exactly."

"So, how do I?" Hope asked.

"When you slow down, and calm your mind, the skills will be there. And you'll be able to learn them. Meditation is the key."

"Meditation?" Hope frowned.

David nodded. "It will take meditation to bring this to the waking world. You cannot simply 'download' all this and expect your mind and body to handle it. You'll bust a blood vessel."

"I don't understand," Hope replied. "What are you talking about?"

"You'll have enough knowledge to defend yourself," David explained. "And it will take time to access it. Even with all the training we do here, there's only so much your body can handle, so we have to do it in stages."

"In the mean time," he continued. "We can try a few things out, and you should be able to retain them when you wake up."

Hope caught the weapon easily, which surprised her.

"Let's start with the basics, shall we?" David suggested as he spun the weapon easily.

Then he held his right hand up, palm toward her. "Whenever you're ready."

Hope raised her hand toward his.

"Oh, and Hope," David finished quickly. "Whatever you do, don't let go till I say so, right?"

She felt his fingers tighten around her hand slightly, holding her fast. She swallowed and nodded.

"Time for the ride," David smiled. He felt the gentle, warm contact of her palm against his and smiled. "Hold on to your ass."

The universe dissolved in a sudden collision of countless images. All flowing like a torrent between Hope and David. She felt it entering her mind, moving about like a living thing, and settling into place in her consciousness. The pain of the pseudo intrusion caused her to cry out in shock.

"Stay with it!" David ordered tightly.

She felt the flow of energy entering her body, pushing the limits of her own reservoirs of strength with painful inevitability. Her eyes squeezed shut as the fire raced through her veins. She cried out again.

"Stay with it!" David repeated. Wind encircled them, swirling about them as the energies expelled, melded and returned, conjoining before flowing back into the young girls body. She felt her muscles spasm at the touch of the power. Felt the inherent dark qualities of that energy, and understood it for what it was.

"Oh no!" She gasped, trying to pull her hands free.

"Nearly there!" David trembled as he held her fast. The fingers of his right hand interlaced around hers, holding both hands fast now.

The burning sensation increased and she felt as if her mind would soon burst into flames. She screamed in agony.

And just as suddenly, it was over. She was laying on her back, on the hard wooden floor, the torrent of images swirling in her mind as they slipped quietly into place, somewhere within her subconscious.

Her breath came in long, ragged gasps, and her body felt leaden and hot, even as a breeze blew in through the open door to cool her flesh.

She also sensed the energy flowing through her, like a dark subsiding tide. It was raw and powerful, like and still unlike the energy she used to possess.

She forced her body to move, and slowly struggled to her feet.

On the opposite side of the room, she saw David slowly rising to his feet, groaning from the exertion.

"What a rush," he said. He brushed his long hair back with a sweep of his hand and forced his body upright.

"How do you feel?" he asked. Even as he asked the question, she could see his vitality returning, and felt it returning to her as well.

"What was that?" she gasped.

David stepped slowly over. "I'll show you," he said with a disarming smile.

Quick as lightning, he lashed out with a vicious right.

Hope didn't think, she merely reacted, and when she looked at her hand, she found it deflecting David's punch.

She looked back at him and saw him grinning hungrily at her. "Neat, huh?" he asked. Then he struck again, and Hope watched as her left hand came up and deflected this second strike as well.

"What is all this?" Hope asked in amazement. "How did I do that?"

David's mischievous smile reasserted itself. "You want the textbook, or the movie version?"  
"Movie?" Hope asked, not understanding the reference.

"Movie, it is," David said agreeably. Then cupping one hand to the side of his mouth he called loudly. "Oh, Morpheus!"

"No, I mean, what?" Hope began, but a third figure appeared off to the other side, standing erect and proud. He was a large man, with dark skin and keen dark eyes. His head was shaved smooth, and he also wore a similar black and white ghee.

His hands were clasped at his waist and he stared at her, unblinking and unmoving, like a statue.

Hope frowned and then the man blinked. He gestured to their surroundings.

"This is a sparring program," he explained. "Similar to the programmed reality of the Matrix. It has the same basic rules, rules like gravity. What you must learn is that these rules are no different than the rules of a computer system. Some of them can be bent, others can be broken. Understand?"

Hope frowned at the strange concept. She had no idea what a computer was, or the Matrix, but the basic idea seemed simple enough.

She nodded.

Morpheus smiled. "Then hit me, if you can."

Hope looked over at David, her entire face a question.

He merely smiled. "Don't think," he said. "Just do."

Hope turned back to face one called Morpheus. He was easily twice her small weight and a full head and shoulders taller than she.

Morpheus moved slowly into a catlike stance, his eyes staring at her expectantly.

"What are you waiting for?" he asked.

Feeling her body tremble from a mixture of fear and adrenaline, Hope forced her nerves to quiet somewhat and let her mind clear. She felt herself move and when she opened her eyes, she was in a combat stance.

In a sudden emotional rush of fear and excitement, she hurled herself at the man, her foot lashing out in a vicious roundhouse kick which he deflected easily. At that moment, all the fear and anxiety melted away into a surreal blur of motion as the two of them exchanged blows with ever increasing speed.

Each time she struck, he dodged, and likewise her movements were equally fluid. The few blows that did strike her, did not hamper her movement, rather, they merely fueled her desire to succeed in this test.

Suddenly, her world flipped upside down and she felt herself floating through the air until the ground rushed up and blasted the wind from her lungs. She slid half way across the wooden floor of the dojo. That landing hurt.

When she looked back, the one called Morpheus was nowhere to be seen. Then a shadow passed over her. Looking up, she saw him descending from a superhuman leap, his knee poised to ram her skull through the floor. She rolled aside and watched in horror as Morpheus's knee punched through the planking.

In a scramble she was back on her feet, hands out in front of her, right side leading.

Morpheus rose and stepped over next to David, looking at her critically.

"What do you think, Mo?" David asked, his arms folded across his chest.

"Very good," Morpheus replied. "Improvisation, adaptation, her problem is not in her technique."

Hope felt a surge of rage as she heard the condescension in his tone.

She sprang to her feet, and in a rage, attacked with a scream.

David ducked to one side while Morpheus simply moved back in and re engaged the furious young woman.

The attacks came with far more fury and devastation the second time around, and yet, Morpheus seemed to know Hope's moves before she even struck.

He wrapped her arms up, pulling her face inches from his.

"What are you doing?" he asked in that calm, condescending tone. "You're faster than this."

With a shove, he increased the distance between them again.

Catching her balance, she screamed and attacked with renewed fury. She felt it boiling through her veins, so similar to the sensations before her imprisonment. It freed her mind. She felt her conscience sink into shadow as she suddenly felt no concern for the man before her.

"Come on!" Morpheus bellowed. "Quit trying to hit me, and hit me!"

The entire universe flashed red in Hope's eyes. She leapt towards him, her feet trying to punch through his defenses and collapse his skull. He merely deflected the attacks again and countered with several kicks of his own. Most were deflected, but several did strike her in the midsection. She ignored the pain and continued.

Then, with a lightning move, Morpheus spun past one of her charges. She continued her run, leaping towards one of the vertical wooden support timbers. Hope felt her fingers grasp the wood, sling shotting her body around in a superhuman kick aimed right for Morpheus's sternum.

In a move too fast for her to see, he simply shifted, his left hand grasping her ankle, his right, coming out and smashing into her gut. She was flung backwards and felt the crushing impact as she slammed through the opposite timber. It cracked and buckled with a sickening crunch.

She fell to the floor, completely spent, her breath coming in ragged gasps, her body covered in perspiration. She coughed in pain.

"How did I beat you?" Morpheus asked calmly.

She looked up and was shocked to see him standing there, relaxed and composed. He was completely unaffected by his exertions. He wasn't even breathing heavy.

She shook her head. "You're better at this than I am. You know what you're doing."

Morpheus smiled as he stepped towards her. "Do you think my being better, or stronger than you has anything to do with this place?"

Hope froze for a moment, realizing that this place was a dreamscape, it wasn't actually real.

"Do you think that's air you're breathing now?" Morpheus leaned down, looking into her eyes. He smiled and raised his eyebrows inquisitively. Then he looked at David and gave a non committal shrug.

Hope paused, considering those words as Morpheus stepped away, his back to her.

He was right, of course. This entire place was no more than a figment of David's imagination. An image. It wasn't real. Nothing of the real world applied here, and yet, she could feel the pain in her body from the beating. Looking back at the broken support behind her, she realized that an impact strong enough to do that much damage would have killed a normal person in the real world. Yet she was only hampered by a feeling of soreness and exertion from the bout.

"Again!" Morpheus said in a challenging voice.

She looked up and saw him, still with his back to her.

Glancing over at David, she was surprised to see and expression that mixed amusement with a touch of fatherly pride. The pride vanished quickly when he was aware of her look, and instead, he gestured for her to rise and resume.

"When this is over," she grunted as she got to her feet. "You and I are going to have a few things to resolve."

"We'll see," David grinned.

"Hey," Xena said loudly, bringing Hope out of her slumber. "Get up! Time to get going!"

Hope rolled over, pulling the blanket tighter around her body. She groaned loudly and opened her eyes.

Looking down towards the small fire, she could see Gabrielle kneeling over their small cooking pot.

"Come on," Gabrielle smiled. "Have something to eat."

Her entire body was throbbing from the repeated beatings she had received in the dreamscape.

She flipped the blanket of her body and pulled herself upright, trying to ignore the soreness in her limbs.

Then she saw the shocked expression on her mother's face.

"What?" She asked.

"What happened to you?" Xena asked, looking down with an equally confused expression.

Hope looked down at her arms and found them covered in a myriad of sickly blue/black and purplish bruises.

"My god," Gabrielle breathed. She rose and stepped quickly over to her.

"It's okay, Mother," Hope protested.

"No, it isn't," Gabrielle replied. "Now, let me see."

She knelt down and began looking over Hope's injuries. She followed a particularly vicious looking one up her arm and under her tunic.

She lifted the shirt from off Hope's lower back and almost cried out in astonishment.

Hope's entire body was a mass of bruises and abrasions. Beneath that she could see the older scars from a whip or thongs.

"What is this?" She asked in horror.

"Long story," Hope replied.

Gabrielle looked at Hope sternly.

"Enough of this," she insisted. "You're going to tell me exactly what's going on, young lady!"

Hope shrugged.

"First this nightmare that you were having," Gabrielle continued. "And now, every morning you wake up looking more battered than the day before. And all you can do is say nothing?"

"It's complicated," Hope said.

"Hope!"

Hope closed her eyes and took a deep, painful breath. "The scars," she said after a while. "Are from Targana Prison."

"And this other stuff?" Xena asked, looking over Gabrielle's shoulder at the nasty discolored injuries.

When Hope was slow to answer. Gabrielle stepped around to face her. With a gentle finger, she lifted Hope's eyes to meet hers and saw her reluctance to speak.

"It's okay," Gabrielle said calmly.

"It's," Hope began. "It's David."

Both Xena and Gabrielle felt their jaws drop in astonishment.

"David?" Gabrielle asked. "My David?"

Hope nodded.

"My dad is doing that?" Xena asked. A smile began to pull at her features. "That's amusing."

"Xena!" Gabrielle scolded.

She looked back down at Hope.

"Why is he doing this to you?" she asked. "How is he doing this?"

"It's hard to explain," Hope replied.

"Try," Gabrielle said evenly.

A short while later, the entire tale had been related. Xena crouched near the fire, mixing a poultice to use when she wrapped Hope's injuries. Despite Gabrielle's admonishments, she had a hard time keeping a satisfied smirk off her face.

"So," Gabrielle said, trying to wrap her mind around the whole thing. "Every night you go to sleep. David brings you into these dreamscapes to teach you these lessons. And you spend all those hours, doing what? Absorbing his knowledge and experiences, and then using them so you can better realize them when you're awake."

Hope nodded.

"And all these," Gabrielle continued, gesturing at Hope's battered form. "Are the result of – "

"Getting her ass kicked," Xena couldn't resist getting a jab in.

Two sets of green eyes turned and glared at her.

After a few moments, Hope excused herself and headed down to a nearby stream to bathe.

Once she was out of earshot, Gabrielle wheeled and faced Xena.

"What is your problem?" She demanded.

Xena froze and looked up. "My problem?" she asked. "What is my problem?" She let the mixture she was preparing fall to the ground with a thump and stood up. "What's your problem? Have you forgotten what that thing is?"

"That thing," Gabrielle said with an edge in her voice. "Is your sister, whether you like it or not!"

"And she was also my son's killer," Xena shot back. "My father's killer, the creature responsible for the destruction of our home, all our friends! And you're sitting her on this little trip, treating her like your little lost lamb!"

"Now just a minute!" Gabrielle shot back, her own voice rising.

"And just because she has you wrapped around her little finger, doesn't mean I have to follow suit!"

"Eve!" Gabrielle said angrily.

"What?"

"Remember Eve, Xena?" Gabrielle said angrily. "Remember all the things she did?"

"Hold on a minute!" Xena started.

"Didn't she wipe out a bunch of lives during her run?" Gabrielle continued relentlessly. "She sold people into slavery, beat whole regions into submission with merciless, bloody campaigns!"

"That's not fair!" Xena protested.

"She killed Joxer, Xena!" Gabrielle continued. "Do you remember Joxer?"

"Of course I remember Joxer!" Xena spat.

"Should I have let Virgil kill her?" Gabrielle asked. "I wanted to kill her myself! Never mind what the Fates did to me!"

"That's not fair!" Xena blurted.

"You convinced me to give her a chance!" Gabrielle finished, staring Xena in the eye. "And in the end, she turned out to be one of my closest friends!"

Xena opened her mouth to respond, but no words came out.

"How is this any different than what happened to Eve, Xena?" Gabrielle crossed her arms over her chest.

Xena looked up and froze.

Hope stood at the unfolding confrontation, her eyes moving back and forth between the two of them. She quickly stooped and grabbed a towel. "Sorry to interrupt," she apologized. She turned and walked back down towards the stream.

"I," Xena started.

"It's alright, Hope," Gabrielle said, holding Xena in her icy gaze. "I think I'll join you."

Xena stood there, her mouth agape for a moment, embarrassment and outrage wrestling for control. Outrage finally won.

"I'll just wait here," she muttered. Then she faced the direction her mother and Hope had departed. "At least one of us is keeping things in perspective here!" She finished with a yell.

It was long into the night when Xena's eyes opened and her senses screamed to full wakefulness.

She stiffened, but otherwise did not move, listening with her entire being, to her surroundings.

She heard the quiet rustle of careful steps moving away from the camp and back down towards the small pond.

Slowly, Xena turned over and saw Hope vanish into the thicker foliage.

"Gotcha," She thought, and a cold smile spread across her face.

She waited until the sound of Hopes steps had faded completely, and then silently rose to follow.

"Now we'll see who's being closed minded," she thought with certainty. "Going off to check in with your little friends, I'd wager."

Xena moved with absolute silence as she followed Hope's trail back down by the water.

As she neared, she could hear the young woman speaking quietly, but she couldn't make out the words. There was the soft sound of water and then a quiet groan, as if Hope were trying to hold in something uncomfortable.

Xena stepped out of the concealing underbrush and found Hope kneeling next to the water.

"What are you doing?" Xena asked menacingly.

Hope practically jumped out of her skin. She turned and saw Xena poised as if to strike and then quickly averted her face.

It was too late, the light of the moon had betrayed Hope's secret. And Xena felt her mouth fall open in shock.

"What is that?" she asked, moving closer.

"Nothing," Hope said quickly, wringing out the small cloth she had brought and putting it to her face.

Xena knelt down beside Hope and leaned forward to see.

"Let me see," she demanded.

"It's nothing," Hope protested.

Xena caught the young woman's wrist, stopping the cloth from its return to her face and slowly turned Hope to face her.

The bottom of Hope's face was a mask of blood that still leaked from her nostrils. Around her nose, Xena could already see the tell tail signs of bruising on either side, moving up to her eyes.

"What is all this?" Xena asked in wonder.

"Nothing," Hope extricated her hand and wiped the blood from her mouth and chin. Her upper lip was slit as well. "It's nothing."

The chill in Xena's heart melted away as the compassion that her father had taught her suddenly rose to the fore and took over.

"Let me see,' she said gently.

Hope slowly turned to look at Xena, her eyes watering and full of pain.

Xena took the cloth and dipped it in the lake again, gently cleaning Hope's injuries.

"How did this happen?" she asked, feeling a surprising twinge of outrage at the brutality of the supposed attack. "Who did this?"

Hope shrugged. "I think his name was Goro. All I know for sure was that he was big, heavy, mean, and had four arms."

"Goro?" Xena shook her head. "I don't know that one. Is this the nightmare that you were telling mom about?"

Hope shook her head. "This is something different."

Xena held Hope's face between her palms and looked at her nose critically. It was definitely broken.

"I need to fix this," she explained. "Otherwise it won't heal right."

Hope nodded.

"This is going to sting a bit," Xena warned her. Then she placed her thumbs on either side of Hope's nose and gave a sharp, gentle tweak. The bones snapped audibly back into place, and the blood ran afresh. Hope stifled a cry.

"Didn't feel a thing," she said meekly as she reclaimed the cloth and held it against her nostrils to stem the blood.

Xena sat back and studied Hope for a moment.

"This is more of my Dad's work, isn't it?" she asked knowingly.

Hope nodded.

"How is this happening?" Xena continued. "I mean, you're only asleep. You're only dreaming."

"What the mind perceives," Hope shrugged. "The body believes."

"But this?" Xena pointed at Hopes nose. "Someone would have to crack you square in the face for that kind of damage."

Hope nodded. "He had four arms. I only managed to block two."

"I thought the nightmare was bad," Xena confessed, remembering Hope's tossing and turning in their old house.

"It is,' Hope shrugged. "David told me he'd teach me what I needed. I guess this is part of it."

"Or, he's getting some twisted sense of satisfaction seeing you beat up every night," Xena finished.

Hope shrugged.

Xena's next words surprised her. "Hey. No one should deal with this." She stopped suddenly when she realized who she was speaking to, and what this other person had done. Still, her opinion didn't change. "No matter what you did." She finished.

Hope looked at her in surprise.

Xena stared at this doppelganger, this image of her mother, once best friend a lifetime ago with the words of their earlier argument ringing between her ears.

Slowly, she began to smile and shook her head. "I hate it when she does that."

"What?"

"Makes sense," Xena finished. "My mother is impossible to deal with when she knows she's made a point."

Hope actually smiled slightly at the quip, which surprised her as much as it seemed to surprise Xena.

"Alright," Xena continued. "Tell me everything that's been going on when you go to sleep at night. Don't leave anything out. Maybe we can find a way to keep you from getting battered to a pulp when you wake up in the mornings?"

From her place of concealment a little ways off in the foliage, Gabriele watched her daughters, talking under the rising moon. She smiled and nodded before turning and carefully sneaking back to the camp.

She lay back down on the blanket and pulled it around her body, staring up at the stars with a contented expression on her face. Then she closed her eyes and breathed deep. "Finally."

The next day, the trio continued towards Amphipolis at a casual pace that allowed time for discussion. This time, however, Xena was as much a part of the conversation as Gabrielle.

The three of them considered Hope's situation and formulated a plan that seemed to fit the circumstances. Unfortunately for Hope, the bulk of it was once again on her shoulders.

As they set up camp that evening, Xena noted Hope's growing trepidation at the prospect of sleep.

"Hey," Xena said as she laid her bed roll out. "Just like we talked about. You can control it as much as he can, and if you can't, you can just wake up."

"He can't keep you there, Hope," Gabrielle added. "But just in case, Xena and I will take turns watching you tonight."

Hope looked over at Xena, who merely nodded in agreement.

"Okay," Hope said nervously, as she lay down. She stared up at the heavens, watching the stars twinkling beyond the soft layer of wispy gray clouds and took a deep breath.

"Don't worry," Xena said suddenly. She actually smiled at her. "We'll be right here."

Gabrielle smiled and placed a comforting hand on Hope's shoulder.

Her eyes moved from one to the other, and for the first time in her life, she felt a sensation of total security. She let her eyes drift closed and felt the comfortable warmth of sleep pass over her.

When she opened her eyes again, she was lying on a soft bed of moss, deep in the swamps of Dagobah. She was dressed in a simple pair of brown boots, breeches, and a pale cream colored tunic of thick woven cloth. A sturdy leather belt wrapped about her waist.

"Well," A familiar voice greeted her. "Ready for the next little adventure?"

Rolling over, she saw David standing nearby, wearing a long pale traveling robe. In his hand was a simple wooden walking staff.

She was shocked at the difference in his appearance. His hair was almost completely gray now, and his features, while still rugged, were ore weathered and careworn. The lines around his eyes and mouth seemed more deeply etched.

He held a second bundle of pale white cloth draped over his left arm.

Hope got to her feet, bracing herself for the next chapter in her trial.

"So," she asked grimly. "Who are you going to have beat on me next?"

"Beat on?" David asked. Then he smiled. "Well, okay, maybe I have been putting you up against some pretty tough hombres. I admit it. But you've won every time." He chuckled. "I think Goro's nuts still haven't dropped back into place after that low blow last night."

He stepped forward and extended the bundle of cloth to her.

"Still," he continued. "I think a change of venue is in order. Put this on and follow me."

She donned the robe, which was identical to the one that David wore, and followed him through the foliage to a small, dry clearing. In the center of the open area sat a large, boxy, gray vessel, the like of which Hope had never conceived of before. It was angular and squat, with slashes of green and white emblazoned on the nose and upper surfaces.

David stepped up to a small panel and hit a switch. A small stair dropped beside him and the inner hatch hissed open with the release of compressed gasses.

"All aboard," David offered, gesturing for her to enter. "Step in and have a seat in the right side chair, please."

Swallowing a sudden sense of anxiety, Hope ascended the steps and entered the main cabin of the craft. All was awash in deep red light. Moving forward, she sat down in front of a series of control panels and levers, her eyes trying to make sense of all that she was seeing.

David seated himself beside her and began expertly adjusting controls. The hatch behind them hissed closed and a muffled whine began somewhere behind them.

David was humming to himself as he set his controls, then he grasped two levers and began moving them.

The ship lifted gracefully off the earth and moved slowly towards the open sky.

Once they were clear of the trees, David put the vessel in a steeper climb, rocketing towards the heavens.

Hope grasped the armrests with white knuckled fear as she watched the world fall away beneath them. The ship vibrated gently until it leveled out and smoothed after one final series of jolts.

Only then did Hope slowly release he death grip on the chair and lean forward to see that she was high above the world, so high that it was nothing more than a rapidly diminishing sphere of pale white, green, and blue sparkling in the heavens.

"What is this?" she asked in wonder.

"This?' David asked as he adjusted some more controls. He shrugged. "Think of it as an interstellar taxi cab."

Hope frowned. "And what is a taxi cab?"

David opened his mouth to reply, and then sighed. "Never mind."

He turned the ship away from the planet and pointed towards a series of three long protuberances hanging in mid air.

"Computer," he said in calm, commanding tone. "Initialize jump gate sequence. Set course for Babylon 5"

A soft, melodic mechanical voice replied. "Confirmed."

As the ship neared the three long objects, they suddenly flared to life with stored energy, flashing in sequence until a huge, yellow orange vortex of energy opened wide to receive them.

"We're not going into that, are we?" Hope asked as panic rose in her belly.

"Better hold on," David replied, grinning.

The ship edged forward until it reached the threshold of the vortex, and suddenly, they were pinned in their seats as the ship was hurled forward, vanishing into the vastness of hyperspace.


	8. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

The gaseous swirl of crimson light surrounded them. Every now and then pale orange fire traced the edges of the clouds, and forces rocked the small shuttle as it pushed its way through the fabric of the now and now.

"What is this place?" Hope asked. Her anxiety was swallowed up by an overwhelming sense of awe.

David leaned his head over and peered through the port side view port. He shrugged. "If I remember the explanation rightly, it is the gap between where we are, and where we need to go."

Frowning, Hope turned to face him again. "That makes absolutely no sense."

David grinned.

After a few more minutes, Hope couldn't help herself.

"This is like being on the ocean, right?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Then how do you navigate it?" Hope continued. "There are no stars, no winds, or currents, nothing to show a direction?"

"There are currents," David replied easily. "But you're right. That's about it."

He pressed a switch beneath the small screen to the right of his control yoke, and the larger central monitor glowed to life. On the background of the swirling crimson gasses, small yellow dots appeared. One of those dots was surrounded by a soft, blinking, blue corona.

"The jump gates serve two roles," David explained. "First, they harness massive amounts of energy, allowing us to penetrate real space and travel in here. Secondly, each gate functions as a marker buoy, transmitting a signal through hyperspace, kind of like a trail that this ship can follow from one gate to another."

He zoomed in the monitor and centered on the flashing dot. It filled the entire screen and small print appeared next to it. David pointed to the string of numbers beneath the title heading.

"That is the transmission frequency assigned for that Jump Gate. Once we get in range, it'll power up and let us back into real space close to where we need to be." He finished.

Absently, Hope regretted that her mother and Sister were not getting any sleep this night. It seemed that she was not about to face the beatings she had become accustomed to. There was also a strange twinge of regret that she would not be able to try the plan that she and Xena had discussed.

She laughed softly, without really knowing why.

"Something funny?" David asked as he casually scanned the instruments for the umpteenth time.

"Nothing," Hope replied. "Just surprised."

"About what?" David asked.

"Xena and I were talking last night," Hope explained.

"I thought the two of you weren't getting along?" David asked, trying to hide a subtle smile.

Hope shrugged. "We weren't, actually. But after the beating I took last night, she sort of took pity on me."

"Really?" David replied. "That's interesting."

Hope studied David's aged face and saw the subtle nuances that would be present in any stage actor. There was the sincerity that had always been a part of his conversations. There was also the sarcastic nonchalance as well, but there was also something else this time. She perceived a sense of smug satisfaction that led her to believe that she had been a party to a much larger scheme. She wasn't sure if she should be amused or offended.

"You knew," she realized as she watched the smile tugging at his mouth beneath the gray whiskers. "You knew that I could do something to keep myself from being all torn up every morning."

"Uh-huh," David replied, the smile getting a little wider.

"You knew that I could heal myself before waking in the morning, and still retain the knowledge you passed on to me!" Hope continued, her sense of outrage rekindling.

David grinned. "Just as I knew that you, your mother, and your sister would figure it out without any prompting from me. And as I knew that your suffering would open them up to you a helluva lot faster than they normally would."

His expression melted to something more sober. "And time is kind of important right now."

Hope stared the man before her. "Because mother doesn't have much left."

"Exactly."

Instantly, the combination of outrage and understanding was subsumed by the nagging dread of impending loss.

At the same moment, the cold calculating side of her mind began to sift through all that she had learned thus far. Perhaps he was unwittingly teaching her the very things that she could turn against him at the moment he made his move.

Her eyes frosted over and part of that old darkness reasserted itself as she studied the old man beside her. She felt the old coldness settle around her heart as she studied him, looking for anything in his manner or demeanor that would signify a weak spot she could exploit. Not right this moment, no, she still had things to learn, but when the opportunity presented itself. In the back of her mind, she was repelled by the emergence of her old, cool calculating ways.

David merely smiled again, though there was no humor in it.

"Don't even consider it, sweetheart," he added knowingly. Then he looked back at her and held her icy gaze with a stony one of his own. "There are some things in this world that even you can't stop."

"Like you would understand anything about that," Hope muttered.

David's eyes flashed a sudden anger that was so bitter, so despondent, that Hope actually caught her breath.

"I know!" He said with raspy vehemence. "I know better than you could ever realize!"

He looked back out the forward canopy and took a few deep breaths.

Hope saw the pain on his face.

"Sorry," she said sincerely.

David smiled as his composure returned.

"I've kept you in dreamscapes and imaginary worlds, because I didn't want you in mine." He admitted. He looked at her intently. "I didn't think you were worthy. Still, I suppose you should know, since I already know what you're going to try."

"Remember what your friend back there on Dagobah says," Hope replied. "Do, or do not. There is no try."

"Fine," David sighed. "What you'll do then. I think you deserve to know that your mom was not my first wife."

"She wasn't?" Hope asked. She was more than a little surprised. "You were married before?"

David nodded. "For nine years."

Hope saw the pain on his face. It was as if there had been a wound on his heart that had never fully healed.

"How did she die?" Hope asked.

"People in your time call it a wasting disease, or consumption," David explained. "In my time, it's called cancer."

Hope said nothing, seeing the memories play out suddenly in David's eyes.

"The details aren't important," David went on after a moment. "The bottom line is this: I tried everything I could to stop it. I worked magicks and called upon deities, pooled every ounce of power I could tap, in order to stop it. In the end, it didn't amount to jack diddly. She still died. It nearly destroyed me, physically and emotionally. I fully expected that my life would never be the same again."

The pain subsided and was replaced by a wistful smile. "Then a couple of years later, I nearly ran over your mother in the middle of a back country road."

The monitor pinged and suddenly another massive vortex opened before them. At the end of the long, swirling tunnel, Hope could see the dark patch dotted with stars.

"Here we go," David said, coming suddenly back to life. He steered the shuttle towards the center of the swirling mass, and then reached into a deep pocket inside his robe.

He handed Hope a small, semi opaque piece of plastic with numerous markings and an image of her face.

"You'll need this for when we go through security," he explained. "Just follow my lead."

The shuttle shot through the vortex and entered the dark expanse of normal space.

Looking out the starboard view port opposite her strange benefactor, Hope saw a large brownish planet spinning lazily nearby. Silhouetted against the stark backdrop was a sight that sent her jaw towards the deck.

The thing was massive in length, spinning lazily beneath two long equally massive supports that jutted out beyond the end of the cylindrical main section, like a pair of daggers. The entire edifice was awash with brilliant swaths of pale red or blue light, and it rotated lazily as it floated through space.

David keyed a switch.

"Babylon Control," he said with an authoritative air. "This is Earth Shuttle Vagabond Drifter, requesting permission to dock?"

After a few seconds a sharp, somewhat stern female voice replied.

"Vagabond Drifter, this is C and C. Vectors transmitted. Maintain your course until further instructed." After a pause the voice returned. "Welcome back, Mister Forester."

David smiled. "Good to hear your voice again, Commander Ivanova. How are things?"

"Surprisingly quiet for a change," The commander's voice replied. "We have two freighters and a Centauri passenger ship in the pattern before you, so it will be a few minutes. Maintain your current course and hold at the outer marker."

"Understood." David nodded. "Take your time."

"C and C out."

The line went dead.

David piloted the shuttle around in a wide sweeping arc until he came to a position at the end of the long station. Several other ships held position nearby. Hope marveled at the various shapes and designs of the other craft.

"This is amazing," she said in awe. "This is from your world?"

David smiled. "Sort of."

Hope watched as a large, roughly circular ship with garish purple and gold markings began moving forward towards the station. As it neared it began spinning in time with the huge opening in the center.

"Wait a moment," Hope exclaimed as she watched the strange vessel vanish through the massive opening. "We're going inside that?"

David nodded as the com system pinged again.

"Vagabond Drifter, this is C and C," the commander's voice came over the speakers. "Release your controls and prepare to dock."

David keyed in a sequence of numbers on his controls and folded his arm.

"Controls released," he replied. "We're all yours."

"Confirmed Vagabond Drifter," Ivanova replied. "Also, the Ambassador has been alerted, she will greet you upon arrival. C and C out."

Hope felt a soft shiver run up her spine at the stern voice of the commander.

"Not a very friendly person is she."

"Who? Susan?" David replied. Then he smiled. "Oh no, you don't want to mess with her. She's all business."

The ship drifted smoothly into the station. Hope watched as a massive pair of steel doors opened before them, allowing them further entry, and the shuttle glided through into a large chamber. Hope felt the shift in the pit of her stomach as the shuttle settled gently on a pad within the room.

There was a muffled metallic boom as the massive doors shut behind the ship.

"What now?" she asked.

"Just wait," David replied.

Suddenly, the ship descended, riding the landing platform down into the bowels of the station. There was another metallic boom as a second set of doors closed above them.

Hope watched with childlike wonder as the railed platform moved down the long row of docking bays, passing ships of sizes and types too numerous to catalog.

The conveyance slowed as it neared an empty slot and rose up next to the bay. Then powerful motors on the pad slid the vessel sideways upon the actual bay floor before dropping back down onto its track and continuing forward. The whole gargantuan place was awash in gentle red light, with pale or amber lights illuminating the actual landing platforms.

"Shall we?" David asked, snapping Hope out of her stupor. He gestured to the hatch as it hissed open.

Hope heard a strange mix of noises coming through the open hatch. Loud metallic rumblings and booms, mixed with voices in countless languages.

She almost lost her footing when she emerged from the ship. Her eyes drifted upward to the distant ceiling, which was actually the massive central core of the docking system. The entire space was massive and open, almost like being outside.

"This is incredible," she breathed.

"Hope!" David called to her. She started and turned her gaze towards his voice, seeing him near a transparent hatch.

"Sorry," she called, jogging after him.

"This is amazing!" She exclaimed when she reached him.

David smiled and drew out his own plastic card. He held it up. "Have it ready."

They passed through the hatch and joined a long queue of other people, many of them so alien, that Hope was hard pressed to keep from staring.

They moved patiently through the line until they entered a lobby of some sort. At the end of the line was a tall, thin man in a gray uniform, inspecting the cards that each person carried. He was lean, in his mid to late thirties, with short neat dark hair and sharp dark eyes. His face was handsome, with deep dimples when he smiled, though, Hope noted, there was an underlying sarcasm to his smile whenever it appeared.

As they neared, she heard his voice, deep and somewhat gravelling.

"Thank you, go ahead," he said automatically, and then turning to the next person. "Identacard please?"

When he turned to face David, the first genuine smile appeared on his lips as he received David's card.

"Well," he said in a slight drawl. "Mister Forester. What brings you back to town? Business or pleasure?"

"Business this time, Mister Allen," David replied. Taking his card back. He turned and gestured to Hope. "This is my step daughter, Hope."

Hope extended the small card to the security officer.

"Hope," David continued with a disarming smile. "This is Security officer, Zack Allen." Then he frowned noting the new insignia on Zack's uniform. "Or should I say, chief?"

Zack's smile remained, though now it seemed a bit forced. "Yeah, well, Garibaldi's taking some time off."

"I see," David nodded.

"He'll be back soon though," Zack continued. "This is only temporary."

He handed Hope's card back to her and waved them through.

David nodded. "Good to see you again, Zack."

"You to," the security chief replied, shaking his hand. "The Ambassador should be in the lobby."

David nodded and gestured for Hope to follow.

"He's going to be in that temporary position till they close this place down," he said knowingly. "Just don't tell him that." He smiled.

They continued into a functionally appointed terminal lobby, with modern seats lined up in neat rows for waiting passengers, and various monitors showing arrival and departure information. An automated voice emanated from hidden speakers in the room, welcoming them to Babylon 5 and pointing out various amenities in numerous languages.

Hope was beginning to feel overwhelmed by everything she had seen. Her mind struggled to grasp it all. She could feel her heart racing as she moved, dreamlike through the scene. It was all so real. She was immersed in this place. Her understanding of reality and fantasy seemed to be blurring in this place.

David, sensing Hope's enrapturement, gently placed a hand under her left arm and guided her through the crowd of people, off toward a nearby open hatch.

They passed through into a smaller lobby, less crowded, and Hope's gaze fell back towards where they were walking, and beheld a single figure standing patiently before them. She was tall and slender, with delicate, beautiful features and gentle, deep dark blue eyes.

Her long dark hair fell over a crest that reminded Hope of a conch shell. It took a moment for her to realize that this ornamentation was not a garment, or piece of adornment, but rather, it was a part of her head.

She wore a simple, yet elegant pale white shimmering robe that was trimmed in red, blue and gold. Her hands were clasped at her waist and her expression was one of quiet joy at the meeting.

Hope could almost feel the serene sense of peace emanating from this figure. It was like a warm blanket that surrounded her.

Her hands rose and clasped before her, as if in some form of prayer. She was numbly aware that David had assumed the same posture.

"Ambassador Delenn," David said, smiling. The two of them bowed. "Good to see you again."

Delenn's smile remained when she looked back up at him, peaceful and serene.

"And you, David," she replied.

"Thank you for taking the trouble to see us on such short notice," David continued. He turned and gestured to Hope. "This is my stepdaughter, Hope. Hope, this is Ambassador Delenn, of the Minbari Federation."

Hope merely nodded her eyes still wide from amazement.

Delenn merely smiled, nodding in return. "I take it she has not been among the stars much?"

"This is her first time," David nodded. "She's a bit overwhelmed at the moment."

The smile never wavered. "It is understandable. To grow up in one place and then to suddenly realize all that is around you can be quite intimidating."

David nodded. "That it can."

"Well," Delenn continued, moving next to Hope and offering her arm. "Shall we go someplace less intimidating?"

Dumbly, Hope nodded.

Delenn took her hand and patted it reassuringly. "This way."

The trio move through a myriad of corridors and passageways until they reached a large gray hatch. Delenn slid a card into the slot to the left of the hatch and there was a series of quick beeps before the hatch slid to the side.

"Well," David said lightly. "I guess I will leave you two to talk."

Hope blinked. "You mean you're not coming inside?"

David shook his head and smiled. "This isn't about me, kiddo. Besides, I think you'll be more comfortable if it's just the two of you."

He nodded his head towards their host. "Delenn. I'll see you later?"

"Of course," Delenn nodded. The two of them bowed their heads and David withdrew.

Hope watched him vanish around a corner, another twinge of abandonment pricking at her heart, mixed with a certain amount of trepidation.

"Come in," Delenn offered kindly.

Nervously, Hope followed her strange host into a lavishly appointed suite of rooms.

All the furniture was soft and comfortable. Crystals of varying hues reflected the light in the room, softening the glare to gentle warm radiances. Here and there a candle burned quietly, releasing strange perfumes into the air which mixed and settled, bathing the room in soft scents.

Delenn moved behind a small counter and began working with a small contraption that Hope could not identify.

"Would you like some tea?" her host asked gently.

Hope was fascinated by the woman. Her every move was fluid and graceful, almost like a perpetual dance. Like the room, the air about her was one of calm wisdom and acceptance.

Hope tried to keep from staring, but she couldn't help it. It took a few moments before she realized that the willowy woman was staring back at her with almost the same mixture of wonder and curiosity as she.

"Sorry," Hope said, looking away in embarrassment. Then she looked back up, her eyes fixing on the pale bony crest encircling her head, just above her ears.

"You're, um," she stammered. "You're not, uh."

Delenn smiled and resumed working on the small appliance until it began to hum softly.

"If you are trying to ask whether or not I am human," she said as she gestured for Hope to be seated on the overstuffed couch against the wall. "Then I will say that you are partly correct."

She folded herself into the chair opposite and eyed Hope keenly.

"I am a half Human, half Minbari," she finished with a soft smile.

Hope nodded, not wanting to pry into personal matters with this stranger.

Delenn's eyes continued to study her for a long moment, and Hope was mildly surprised at how little she minded the scrutiny.

"Your teacher speaks very highly of you" Delenn resumed after a few moments. "He tells me that you have come a long way, endured much, and learned much."

She smiled. "When he speaks of you, I can often see a sense of fatherly pride."

Hope shrugged. She had never sensed a feeling of pride from David. Quite the contrary. In fact, she had always felt that the majority of the tests he had subjected her too were partly to aid her, and partly to pay her back for his demise by her hand.

Delenn continued to look at her, that soft smile on her lips.

"He also tells me," she went on. "That you are still struggling with other things."

Hope blinked. It was easy to become lost in Delenn's thoughtful gaze.

"Like what?"

Delenn considered for a moment. "You are on a journey, and yet, you have not set your feet on any one particular path."

Hope frowned. "I don't understand."

The small appliance on the counter made a soft ping, and Delenn rose and went to it, taking two long stemmed, delicate glasses from a nearby tray.

"Not long ago, there were two races," she said. "One were called the Vorlons, and the others were known to us only as the Shadows. Would you like some tea?"

"Yes, please," Hope answered.

Delenn filled the two glasses and returned, handing one to Hope and resuming her seat. She sipped at the pungent drink and sighed.

"These two races were all that remained of those that we know as the First Ones. They were left behind to safeguard the other, younger races in the universe, you understand?"

"I think so," Hope replied.

"The Vorlons and the Shadows asked two very important questions exclusively. The Vorlons always asked, 'who are you?' and with the Shadows, the question was always, 'what do you want?'"

She studied Hope again for a moment and smiled. "Alone, these two questions were dangerous, as both races discovered. Asked independently, these were powerful questions. However, when presented together, they were even powerful questions because they forced any being presented with them to reevaluate his or her position in life."

"I don't understand," Hope said, frowning.

"Your teacher asked me to speak with you, here, now, because you must decide the answer to these questions."

A lump of cold dread knotted in Hope's belly.

"How much did David tell you?" She asked nervously.

Delenn smiled. And stood again, moving to a large crystal display against the rear wall.

"He told me that you were responsible for a great deal of destruction on your home world." She said smoothly. "That you commanded great armies, and bathed the land in blood for a time. That you took his life in combat."

She turned and saw the dread on Hope's face. The color drained from the young girl's cheeks.

"If I understand all that David has explained to me, you were bred to this course?" Delenn continued.

"You could say that," Hope nodded, wondering when she would be asked to leave. The fear was so perceptible, that Delenn actually laughed.

"Would it surprise you to learn that we are similar in many ways?" she confided. She stepped toward her, her hands clasped in front of her.

"As a people," she explained. "We Minbari do everything together. We celebrate together in times of joy; mourn together in times of loss. We are deeply passionate, and at the same time, deeply religious. These passions and ideals unite us in ways that surpass any other race. Our religious caste was created to maintain a balance for our people, providing guidance and security, while our warrior caste was there to protect us, and our worker caste made it possible for the other two to provide the support and protection that we as a people required. When the three castes are in agreement on a particular cause, then the results can be glorious, or terrifying."

Hope saw a haunted look appear in Delenn's eyes, as she looked inward to an old memory.

"When we first encountered your people, a misunderstanding caused the death of our greatest leader." Delenn continued. "As a people, we went mad together, and that madness led us to sweep through the universe, wiping out your people by their thousands, all the way to your home world. Then, fortunately, in the last hour, as a people, we woke up from our nightmare together, and stopped."

Hope's mouth hung open in shock.

Delenn stared at her closely and a bitter smile appeared. "My voice was the deciding vote that sent us on that mad course, Hope."

"Yours?" Hope was stunned.

"One statement, made in moment of anger," Delenn nodded. "And three and a half million of your kind were snuffed out."

Hope couldn't find the words. How do you respond to something like that?

Delenn's peaceful expression reasserted itself and she smiled knowingly.

"As I said," she finished. "We are not so dissimilar after all, are we? Like me, you have awakened from your nightmare. Now you must decide which path you will follow."

"How do I do that?" Hope asked. "When I've done so much wrong. I could never make up for it, not in my lifetime."

Delenn smiled knowingly. "You find ways to make amends. A little at a time, day by day. But you cannot do that until you answer two very important questions."

Hope nodded. "Who am I, and what do I want?"

"Once you have answered those questions, your journey can begin."

"I know what I want," Hope said suddenly. "I want to make up for all the things I've done."

Delenn smiled. "Then you are already half way there. Who are you?"

Hope frowned.

"Hope is your name," Delenn said. "But who are you? What does your name mean to you? Beyond the simple definition."

Hope opened her mouth to reply and discovered, much to her dismay, that she had no answer. She didn't know who she was.

"I know who I want to be," she managed to say. "Who I want to be like."

Delenn smiled. "That is as good a place to start as any."

Hope smiled, suddenly a little embarrassed. "It's strange. I have so few memories of my mother. Some fragments from when I was a child, but most of it in this last week alone. All I know is that I want to be like her, but I don't really know her."

"Like your mother?" Delenn asked. "Then you must learn from her. You must walk in her shoes, see life through her eyes. Believe as she believes." Her expression was almost wistful.

Delenn set the glass down. "Tell me, what is the earliest memory that you have of her?"

Hope thought for a moment. "Her voice. A song, I think. Something she sang to me when I was real young."

"Do you remember it?" Delenn asked.

Hope shook her head and Delenn smiled. "Are you sure?"

Delenn reached out and gently placed a hand on top of Hopes. Think back to those moments. Let them come to the surface. Don't force them, just feel them."

Hope took a deep breath and closed her eyes, frowning in concentration. Nothing rose to the surface.

"Relax," Delenn said calmly. There was a softness to her voice that made it seem distant, almost hypnotic.

The tension in her mind seemed to melt away. Then, as if from a distance, she caught it rising up through the myriad of other thoughts swimming in her mind. Gabrielle's voice, soft and comforting like a blanket.

_Lay your head down,_

_Sleep on my shoulder._

_Lay your head down, _

_and start a new dream._

_And for tonight,_

_The moment is over_

_Drift in a lullaby,_

_Here where the stars reside,_

_And angels are all we see._

_And lay your head down,_

_The stars, they have whispered_

_Hear what they say,_

_And know what it means._

_The moon is your guide._

_The stars, they have kissed her._

_As she rolls gently by,_

_Light as a baby's sigh,_

_Safe on a fairytale stream,_

_And start a new dream…_

She could almost feel her mother's arms holding her, cradling her. It was warmth and kindness, filled with gentle love, and a touch of longing.

Hope truly heard it for the first time. She fell into it, feeling the melancholy, the hope, the love, the fear, all woven into one warm, sheltering tapestry of emotion.

When she opened her eyes again, there were tears in them. Delenn was smiling and nodding.

"I heard it," Hope said breathlessly. "I felt it. It was like I was there again, only without the other voices in my mind."

"That is when you will find yourself, Hope," Delenn said. "When you walk in the quiet places, when you let your mind go back to those things that bring you comfort and happiness, or when you walk through dreams. That is when you learn most about who you are."

"Dreams," Hope repeated, and then she laughed quietly. "Everything in this place is a dream. Everything I've seen when I'm with him is part of a long series of dreams. Even sitting here with you is nothing more than part of a dream. An illusion, designed to teach me lessons that I don't even begin to understand."

"The understanding will come, in the fullness of time," Delenn said patiently. "But you must want to understand in order to learn. You cannot simply walk through these places and take nothing with you. You understand."

Xena's head snapped up as she fought off the latest wave of weariness. She looked down at the slumbering form of Hope and shook her head. No new visible signs of injury had appeared on the young woman since she had fallen asleep.

She lay quietly, her breathing soft and slow, deep in slumber.

Behind her eyelids, Xena could see her eyes flicking from one side to the other rapidly. Wherever she was, whatever she was experiencing, it was obvious that she was dreaming.

Her eyes drifted over to the second form, lying next to Hope. That of her best friend and mother, Gabrielle.

For the first time, she saw how truly changed her mother was. It was like Hope's appearance provided the basis from which Xena drew.

Gabrielle's face was composed, peaceful, but careworn. The lines around her eyes and mouth more pronounced the wrinkles on her forehead, the somewhat leathery appearance of her hands and arms.

The only thing unchanged was the crystal clear green of her eyes. They were the only part of her that retained their youthful glow, in spite of all she had endured.

Xena blinked as she realized that Gabrielle was awake and looking at her.

"You said you would wake me in four hours, young lady," Gabrielle said with a knowing smile. "I think it's been about six."

Xena shrugged. "I wasn't that tired."

Gabrielle smiled. "That isn't the point, Xena. We agreed to share the burden. Besides, I really haven't been able to sleep all that well anyway."

She sat up quietly and added a couple of logs to the fire. The flames sprouted back up to consume the fresh fuel and the warmth radiated outward over them.

"Anything?" she asked as she knelt down opposite Xena and studied the sleeping girl's face.

"Not so far," Xena shook her head. "She was mumbling something a little bit ago, but no sign of any beating as of yet."

"Well," Gabrielle smiled. "Then get some sleep."

Xena shrugged. "I'm alright."

"That's nice, dear," Gabrielle replied. "Sleep."

Xena was about to protest when she saw the stern resignation in Gabrielle's eyes. There was no point in arguing, especially when she really was exhausted.

She lay down near the fire and stared at Hope for a few more seconds. Then her eyes closed and she immediately drifted off to sleep.

As soon as Gabrielle was sure that Xena was indeed asleep, she let out a long, shaky breath. In that action, she seemed to wilt a little bit, her shoulders sagged just a hint, her gentle expression hardening to certainty.

She fought the light headedness away with a few more deep breaths and looked back down at Hope. There was so much remembered pain in her slumbering expression. A hint of worry, or even fear, creased the delicate lines in her forehead.

She placed her hand gently on Hope's head, brushing some stay golden hairs out of her face and smiled.

No new bruises, no new cuts, no new trauma at all. It seemed that Hope was receiving the first peaceful nights sleep in a long, long time.

Then Gabrielle looked at Xena. Her gaze moved between the two of them, and she frowned in wonder.

Getting to her feet, she moved off to one side of the camp and turned to study the scene before her.

There lay Xena, dressed in her usual leathers, her weapons neatly arranged within easy reach of her hands, the thick woolen blanket wrapped tightly around her body. There, opposite her sleeping form was another one, motionless in slumber, oblivious to the dangers of the wild world.

There, before her eyes, lay a warrior and a young, inexperienced girl, out among the troubles of the world.

It was a unique perspective, to see Xena and Hope sleeping, much like she and Xena had done in a previous life, all those years ago. She was looking at the future, and the past all rolled into one image of two people, irrevocably linked by an unbreakable bond. Only, in this case the bond was by blood instead of friendship.

Gabrielle smiled again. "Is this what we looked like, all those years ago?" she wondered aloud.

She moved to return to her place at Hope's side, but a wave of dizziness caused her steps to falter. She dropped to the soft earth with a gasp of surprise.

Hope's eyes snapped open and she sat upright at the sound of the fall.

"Mother!" she cried.

Xena also sat up. The two of them both saw Gabrielle lying on the ground and in unison they scrambled forward to her aid.

"I'm alright," Gabriele protested as the two women helped her over near the fire. "I'm alright. Just a little light headed."

They lay her by the fire and wrapped her in the blankets.

"Just rest," Xena said with a smile, though her body was tense with sudden fright.

Gabrielle's face was gray and glistening with a thin sheen of perspiration.

"Don't you do anything silly," Hope said suddenly. "It isn't time yet."

Gabrielle smiled and closed her eyes. The anxiety left her expression and she took a deep breath, falling unconscious.

"Mom?" Xena said urgently.

"She's okay," Hope nodded. "She just fell back to sleep."

The two of them watched for a time as Gabrielle's breathing slowed to something more relaxed and her expression melted to something more peaceful. They each breathed a sigh of relief.

When Hope looked up at Xena, she found her staring back, her eyes a combination of fear and suspicion.

"What did you mean when you told her it wasn't time yet?" Xena asked pointedly.


	9. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Hope and Xena sat across from each other, on either side of their stricken mother. Xena's expression was one that mingled shock and disbelief. She studied Hope for a longtime, trying to sense any duplicity on the young doppelganger's part, but could find none.

Gabrielle lay with a thin sheen of perspiration forming on her face. Her breathing was shallow and becoming more ragged by the moment.

Hope looked back up at her, her own eyes alight with desperate fire.

"Well?"

"Let me see if I understand this," Xena said.

"I told you!" Hope said anxiously. "David said that he was not actually here for me! He was here for Mother, but the time wasn't right yet. This was why he came to me!"

"And for the last ten days, every night you've been sleeping, he's been training you. Teaching you things that you used to be able to leech from Dahok." Xena finished.

"And each night, I've watched him age!" Hope finished. "Getting older and older until the time-" She stopped suddenly

"When you killed him," Xena finished icily.

Hope nodded. She no longer cared what her sibling thought. "He also told me that he didn't teach me how to heal myself after the training, so that you and Mother would see me getting hurt, and feel sorry for me!"

Xena's gaze frosted over. Once again, she suspected Hope of trying to play her as a fool.

"He taught me a lot, yes!" Hope continued. "But he also used me! He played on my inexperience to get to you! And he was counting on you and Mother's compassion to get us to open up to one another!"

Xena looked down at Gabrielle, seeing her paling by the moment.

Hope waited for a few moments and then an exasperated breath burst from her lips.

"Look," She said urgently. "We may never resolve our differences! I can live with that, if I have to! But we can help Mother!"

"We?" Xena smiled coldly.

Hope extended her hand towards Xena. "Yes! I can't do this alone!"

"I can get us to where David brought me," Hope's voice began to take on the same, husky edge, and her eyes dimmed a little, going colder. "But I know I won't be able to stop him by myself. I need your help."

"You're asking me to go up against my own father," Xena protested.

"In order to save our Mother's life," Hope countered. She held the hand steady. "But you have to be willing to trust me."

Xena was clearly reluctant. She looked back down at Gabrielle, and two lifetimes of memories flashed before her eyes. Everything they had been through together, all the adventures and the tragedies. In that moment, she understood. She looked up at Hope and the two of them held one another's gaze each searching the soul of the other.

"Okay," Xena nodded. She reached up and clasped Hope's hand.

"Just relax," Hope instructed. "Just like your father taught you. Let me lead the way."

Xena nodded and closed her eyes.

She felt herself floating for a moment. The only sensation was the feeling of her fingers intertwined with Hope's. Ands then she felt soft earth beneath her feet again.

"Xena?" Gabrielle's voice asked.

Xena opened her eyes and looked to her left. There was Hope, looking at her questioningly.

"Are you alright?"

Xena sighed. Hope had Gabrielle's voice. She nodded.

They released their hold on one another and surveyed their surroundings.

The sky above was deep purple, dotted with stars. All about them were the dank, lichen draped boughs of the ancient trees.

Mists and gasses swirled around them, stretching into an unseen distance. The air had a thick, bittersweet smell. Night creatures made their strange music all about them.

Xena looked about and suppressed a shiver.

"This is where my Dad brought you?" She asked.

Hope was frowning as she surveyed the surroundings. "Yes."

Something in the tone of her reply told Xena that she was uncertain. She arched an inquisitive eyebrow in the direction of her companion.

Hope was dressed in a simple pale robe. A belt encircled her waist, and in her hands was a simple, long wooden staff.

By contrast, Xena was dressed as she normally was, in dark leather armor, with her sword and chakram hanging from either hip.

Hope looked about them for a few more moments, getting her bearings. Then she nodded.

"This way," she moved off in the indicated direction.

They moved silently through the thick bracken covered ground, threading their way over semi dry patches of muddy earth. Eventually, a small dry clearing appeared through the trees. In the center of the clearing, seated on a rotting stump, was a single figure, dressed in pale robes of the same design as Hope. His silvery hair fell like a silvery mane past his shoulders.

Xena looked over at Hope questioningly and Hope nodded.

Then Hope pointed in a direction, indicating the opposite side of the clearing. Through gesture, she suggested that Xena circle around to the other side in order to catch David between them.

Xena's heart went leaden in her chest as she realized that, in order to save her best friend, her mother, she would soon have to battle against her own father.

Hope saw the look in Xena's eyes and understood it. She nodded soberly. Then the two of them separated.

Hope stepped into the clearing a few moments later and stared at the figure seated before her. The figure made no move.

"So?" She asked. "What will be the lesson today?"

The mane of hair shifted slightly.

"No lesson today, Hope," David replied in an unusually subdued voice.

On the opposite side of the clearing, Xena emerged from concealment.

"Hi, dad," she said quietly.

The head turned the opposite direction, and clear dark eyes gazed at her from over his shoulder.

He smiled in appreciation. "Well, you have learned a lot. More than I gave you credit for."

Hope smiled coldly. "I realized something quite a while ago. Even though you brought me into dreamscapes that were not a part of your real life, they were a part of you. That meant that every person I met, every creature I saw, right down to the animals in this swamp, were a part of you. They came from your mind. All I needed to do was ask the right questions, and I learned a lot more than you planned on teaching me."

"We came to ask you to stop what you're doing," Xena said, her eyes flicking in Hope's direction. There was something so cold and calculating in Hope's voice, that she felt the same chill she had always experienced when seeing her in the past. It was as if the old darkness was asserting itself once again.

"Just leave mom alone," Xena pleaded.

"Out of my hands, I'm afraid," David replied. Still he made no move.

Hope's brows creased as she studied the figure. He had the same build, the same features, but something about this entire situation was wrong.

"Something else I learned," Hope continued. "My energy wasn't stripped from me."

Hope stepped sideways with slow deliberate strides. Her eyes fixed on David with unnatural intensity. "It was replaced."

David shrugged. "Sometimes you need one poison to drive out another."

Hope stared into the dark brown eyes for a moment more, and a knowing smile began to creep across her face.

"This is all wrong," she said. David raised an inquisitive eyebrow.

Hope looked about her. "This is a swamp, yes. It is very similar to Dagobah." Her green eyes flashed as they fixed on David again. "But it isn't Dagobah, is it."

"What makes you say that?" David asked.

"The air feels wrong," Hope sniffed. "The smells." Then her eyes fixed on David again. "But most importantly. The noises. They're more like a swamp in the real world. Nothing like what I've heard for the last two weeks."

Xena looked back and forth between the two of them. "What's going on?"

"This isn't David," Hope said with icy calm.

David looked at her, and then a smile spread across his features. Again, he shrugged.

"I was hoping to keep you fooled for a might bit longer, lassie," he said, his voice and mannerisms slowly changing to something else that Hope recognized. The features of the figure between them shifted and flowed. The goatee on the face thickened and grew into a long grayish beard, the hair color darkened, and the eyes changed to a clear gray.

Hope felt her mouth drop open in shock.

"Ian!"

The big man stood and nodded, his smile still visible as the whiskers finished their unnaturally quick growth.

"It's good to be seeing you again, love," he said with a simple half bow. Then he looked back at Xena. "Though I was expecting to be seeing only you. You've learned a lot more than your David was led to believe."

"Hope?" Xena asked. "Who is this person?"

"This is Ian," Hope said. "He was the one that David sent to find me after I got out of the ruins."

Xena moved to stand beside Hope, eyeing the big man uncomfortably.

"You've mastered a lot in a short time if you can be bringing your sister into the dream realms with you, lassie," Ian said with a touch of pride.

"If he's here,' Xena asked, pointing at Ian. "Then where's dad?"

Hope's momentary sense of levity faded and the two of them stepped back.

"Ian," Hope asked. "I need to find David."

The big man shook his head. "I can't let you do that, love."

Hope's eyes frosted over again, and Xena's likewise did the same.

"You're the first friend I've ever had in my life, Ian," Hope said with a growing edge. "Please help us."

Ian shook his head. "I can't do that either."

"Can't?" Xena asked. "Or won't?"

"Take it as you may, darling," Ian said. "But this is the way things are."

Xena's hand drifted to her sword hilt.

"You can't hurt me with that, love," Ian smiled.

Hope put a hand on Xena's shoulder. "Come on. David said it would be time when he wasn't here. If Ian's here, then David is going after mother."

The two of them turned and fled into the trees...only to emerge from the foliage on the opposite side of the clearing. They turned and ran back into the trees a second time, only to return to the clearing again, standing before Ian.

Hope's gaze was like a frozen sea.

"Ian," she growled. "I love you as a friend. Don't make yourself my enemy!"

Ian smiled. "I'm not making you do anything, lassie. But I also have a job to do. When it benefited you, I was your friend. Now that it does something you don't approve of, I'm your enemy?"

"I just found her," Hope said. "I just got her back!"

"And why is it that I told you to go and find her first, before al the others, love?" Ian asked. "She was the closest to her time of passing. You needed to resolve those things before that happened."

"Let us out of here," Xena said angrily.

Ian stood his ground and crossed his arms over his chest.

Suddenly, Hope's eyes widened in realization.

"Hit me," she said quickly.

"What?" Xena asked.

Hope turned to face Xena, even as Ian's arms dropped and he began stepping forward.

"Hit me!" Hope demanded.

Xena looked past Hope's shoulder and saw the big druid closing.

Quick as lightning, she drew back and punched Hope in the nose.

The entire universe flashed white in Hope's eyes and she fell to the side, her fingers released their grip on Xena's outstretched hand.

She pushed herself up to her knees and felt the dull, stinging tingle of the punch.

Looking over, she saw Xena, opposite Gabrielle's form, slowly rising as well.

Hope gingerly touched her nose and her fingers came away red.

"Did you have to hit me in the nose?" she asked, wincing.

Xena shrugged as they looked down.

Gabrielle was pale and still.

"She isn't breathing," Xena said in a rising panic. Her fingers probed for a pulse.

"Mother!" Hope cried in dismay. She looked helplessly at Xena. "Do something!"

Xena shook her head helplessly. Then she paused.

"She's still warm," she said quickly. "That means Dad was just here."

Hope felt tears stinging her eyes.

Xena jumped to her feet and grabbed Hope's hand, hauling her up.

"I know where they're going!" she said quickly. "Come on!"

They ran through the dark woods, ignoring the branches that clawed at them, as if trying to impede their progress.

They burst out of the woods near a large, glassy lake.

Xena was shedding weapons and gear as she ran, letting the objects fall.

"Dive in and keep swimming down!" she ordered.

The two of them never slackened their pace. They leapt from a small rise and dove into the frigid water.

Hope pumped and kicked, fighting the urge to return to the surface. Her lungs were on fire. Ahead of her, she could just barely see Xena, swimming ahead of her with long, powerful strokes. Her vision began to spot over, and the fire in her chest became a palpable burning. Even if she turned back now, she knew she wouldn't make it to the surface before she drowned.

In panic, she kicked harder, the water around her stifling a scream that struggled to emerge.

Then the surface of the water broke before her and blessed air flooded her lungs in a long, shuddering cry.

Xena was hauling herself up onto a flat rocky shelf.

Hope struggled to the bank, and also pulled herself out of the water. The whole place was dark and covered in oozing slime. The light around them was tinted reddish orange, as if fires burned somewhere nearby.

Hope felt the heat through the soles of her shoes.

"Where is this place?" she asked.

"We're at the borders of the Underworld," Xena said quickly, pulling Hope the rest of the way to her feet. "Come on!"

They ran through a long, cave like passage and began descending a winding tunnel of steps, always heading down. As the light increased, Hope could hear a distant, low thrumming in her ears. Her fear increased as she remembered her nightmare. She felt each step becoming more and more difficult.

They exited the tunnel and emerged on a long, arrow lane of dark shingle that led to an old decrepit dock.

Moored to the dock was an equally beaten old boat. A single figure, dressed in tattered dark robes, stood at the stern of the boat with a long pike in his boney hands.

Two other figures were standing nearby, getting ready to step into the boat.

"Stop!" Xena shouted.

The two figures froze and turned.

Hope skidded to a halt next to Xena and her mouth fell open as David and Gabrielle both turned to face them.

Each of them wore an expression of surprise as Xena and Hope ran forward.

"What the heck is this?" the boatman asked in a gruff voice.

Xena stopped before her parents and looked over at the pale figure. She smiled in recognition.

"Hi Charon," she said quickly. Then she turned back to her parents, and looked at her father. "Hi dad."

Charon looked from David and Gabrielle to the young woman before them, and then he snapped his fingers with a bony click.

"Xena!" he said, and he chuckled. "Well, I'll be a Harpy's handmaid! Look at you!"

"What are you doing here, baby?" David asked.

"Don't do this," Xena was shaking her head. "Don't take her away yet."

She looked at Gabrielle and felt her emotions begin to knot in her throat. She was young, strong, and beautiful again. Her eyes were clear, green, and filled with the same sparkle that she remembered all those years past.

"Mother!" Hope cried, running up behind Xena.

"What the?" Charon asked, looking at the twins in wonder. "Okay, first and foremost! Who's riding? Pay up and you can talk on the way!" He waggled a finger at Hope. "And just cause you look like her, doesn't mean you don't have to pay!"

"Hang on a sec," David said. He looked at Xena and smiled. "How in the hell did you pull this off?"

Xena smiled. "I've been here before." She wrapped her arms around her father's neck and held him tight.

"Hey! Hey!" Charon protested. "I got a schedule here!"

Xena stepped away from her father, tears stinging her eyes, and turned to Gabrielle.

"Don't go," she begged.

"Please!" Hope added.

Gabrielle smiled and put a hand on each of her children's cheeks.

"Look at you two," she said.

She gently led the two of them back down the dock toward the shore.

"What gives?" Charon bellowed after them. "You can't do that! You're paid up and everything! Come on!"

"Hey, Leatherface!" David said harshly. "Give them a second, will ya!"

Grumbling, Charon seated himself in the rear of his boat.

The trio stepped onto the rocky shore. Then Xena and Hope both wheeled around and began pleading with Gabrielle to stay.

Gabrielle shushed them both and smiled.

"It's time for me to go," she said gently. "Past time, if you think about it, really."

"But we're supposed to be together forever," Xena protested.

"And we will be," Gabrielle replied. She placed a hand over Xena's heart. "Because I'm going to be right here, no matter where you go."

"I," Hope stammered, fighting the torrent of emotions under control. "I just found you, really found you, and now I'm going to lose you again!"

Gabrielle let her hand rest on Hope's shoulder.

"I thought I lost you, all those years ago, Hope." Gabrielle replied. "And in the end, I got you back. You can't imagine how that makes me feel."

"Then stay for a while longer," Hope pleaded. "I want to get to know you. I want to learn all the things that I didn't get the chance to learn before."

Gabrielle's eyes were welling up also.

"I wish I could, Hope," she said. "But I can't. It's my time now."

The girls opened their mouths to protest, but Gabrielle stopped them.

"There's nothing more that you can say," she said gently. She looked at Xena.

"You and I will see each other again, soon." She smiled. "That's a given. So don't worry too much about this, alright?"

Xena nodded.

"Besides," Gabrielle continued. She stepped back and looked at the two of them. "You need to help your sister along for the time being. She's going to need your guidance and your experience. She still has a lot to learn."

She turned to Hope. "And you're stepfather told me exactly what he did for you." She continued. "He told me how he did it. You still have a great many things to learn about yourself. Some of those lessons won't be easy. You need to be ready for that, okay?"

Hope nodded.

On the boat, Charon cleared his throat loudly.

"It's time for me to go," Gabrielle said quickly.

"Honey," David called from the dock.

"I know, I know," Gabrielle replied, holding up a hand, begging patience.

"There's one more thing," she continued. "I need for the two of you to take me back to Poditea and lay me to rest in our tomb. That way, your father will find me in the future, and, well, you know the whole story." She smiled, looking at Xena.

Xena nodded. "I'll take care of it."

Gabrielle pulled both of her daughters to her in one final embrace.

"Take care of each other, too. Okay?" she choked.

Hope and Xena nodded, shutting their eyes against the tears.

Gabrielle forced herself to step away, her eyes locked on her children, as if to burn the image into hr mind.

The emotions were a rising tumult in Hope's chest, like a wave of pressure that she had never experienced before. She didn't know how to react. She felt the tears streaming down her face, felt the shuddering sensation as she tried to force her lungs to take air.

It was like a dream as they watched Gabrielle rejoin David on the dock and step into the boat.

"Okay," Charon grumbled. "Let's get the show on the road. I'm late already."

He leaned against the pole in his hands, and the boat slipped quietly away from the dock.

The wave of pressure finally exploded in Hope's heart and she cried out a she tried to leap forward to stop the boat.

She felt Xena's arms wrap about her shoulders, holding her fast. The agonizing wails echoed like a ghostly chorus in the cavern. Hope struggled, pounding her fists against Xena's forearms as she tried to break free.

The entire universe was a blur of emotion, threatening to drown her. She felt her legs give out beneath her and the two of them dropped to their knees.

Xena whispered soft noises in Hope's ear, despite her own agony.

Looking out at the river, she could see her parents staring back at them, feeling the same palpable sorrow that they were expressing.

David suddenly stood up, pointing at the two of them on the shore.

"Hey! Xe!" he called. "Keep your chin up! You take care of your little sister now, you hear me?"

Xena nodded.

"Hope!" David called again. His voice thundered through the place and snapped her out of her hysteria. Her bloodshot eyes fixed on him.

"Ian was right about one poison driving out another!" David called. "You be careful! You got everything I had! You understand? Watch your temper!"

He raised his hand in one final farewell, and then his fingers closed into a fist.

Xena repeated the gesture. It had been their traditional farewell ever since Xena had begun traveling on her own. They would each wave, and then symbolically take a part of the other, holding it tight.

Hope seemed to be in a state of semi shock, her haunted eyes fixed on the boat as it moved away.

"Mother," was all she could manage to whisper. She was only numbly aware of Xena's arms gently rocking her.

On the boat, Charon looked back at the dwindling figures on the shore and sighed.

"That is why I never recommend having the kids here when you," he stopped as he turned back and saw the looks on his passenger's eyes.

Gabrielle had a hand covering her mouth, her eyes filling with tears, while David's gaze was something that mingled sadness and ferocity in equal measure.

For a moment, Charon feared that he might have a mutiny on his little boat.

He set down his pole and let the current pull them along as he seated himself across from his passengers.

"Look," he said with uncharacteristic compassion. "You got some good kids there, right?"

They both nodded.

"And we all know Xena," Charon continued with a wry grin. "I don't think you two have anything to worry about."

He stood and took up his pole again. "Besides, I think you guys are really gonna like where I was told to drop you off."

David smiled suddenly, and Gabrielle frowned.

"What do you mean?"

Charon only smiled and tapped the side of his nose.

The boat had vanished in the distance. The only sound was the gentle lapping of the river against the shingle, and still, the two of them had not moved.

Hope was completely spent. Her eyes were still locked on that distant point, but they saw nothing. As Xena leaned forward, she could hear Hope humming softly to herself.

"It's okay," Xena whispered.

Xena didn't know how long they stayed there. In that place, on the borders of life and death, it was as if time had no meaning.

After a time, Xena gave Hope a gentle shake.

"Come on," she said quietly. "It's time to go back."

Gently, Xena help Hope back to her feet and began leading her, like a child, back towards the cavern that would lead them back to the world of the living.

As they moved up through the cavern, Hope slowly began to come back to life, though she wept continually as they walked. Xena kept a reassuring arm around Hope's shoulder.

After a short time, they began to hear other footsteps coming towards them.

"What's that?" Hope asked, sniffling.

Xena listened as the sound grew until it echoed through the tunnel. The sound of many shuffling feet drew inexorably closer.

"Something's happened," Xena said quietly. "Something big."

Hope frowned.

"This many people, coming down to the River Styx only means one thing. Some type of catastrophe, or a war."

The figures emerged from around a gentle curve in the sloping tunnel. All of them moving with slow, traumatized deliberation, down towards the edge of the river.

Xena and Hope watched the people shuffle past them. Many of them suffering grievous wounds.

"War," Xena said knowingly.

A figure further down the line caught her attention, and her mouth dropped open in shock.

"Alex?" Xena gasped. She pushed her way through the nearest victims and grasped her brother's shoulder, spinning him to face her.

"Alex?" she whispered in despair. "Oh, no. Alex!"

The shocked bleary look in her younger brother's eyes melted away to something clearer.

"Xena?" he said as if he were not quite sure. He blinked a few times. "Xena? Did they get you too?"

He looked down and Xena saw the large stab wound in his upper left chest.

Hope stepped up next to Xena and looked up at Alexander. His eyes turned towards her, and in a sudden moment of awareness, all the fire returned.

"You!" He snarled. His gray fingers shot out and grasped Hope by the throat.

"At least we got you before the end!" He continued, his fingers tightening around her throat.

Xena grabbed her brother's arm and tried to wrench his hand free, as Hope struggled to pry the dead fingers from her neck.

"It wasn't me!" she gurgled desperately.

"Alex!" Xena begged. "Alex! Let her go!"

"She wiped out the entire town!" Alex said.

"She's been with me, Alex!" Xena shouted.

His eyes locked on hers.

"What?"

"For the last two weeks!" Xena continued. "She's been with me and mom for the last two weeks! It couldn't have been her!"

Alex's eyes darted back and forth between Hope and Xena. "But I saw her!" he said.

"Alex," Xena begged. She saw Hope's eyes rolling back in her head as unconsciousness threatened to overtake her.

"Alex, let her go."

Alexander looked into Xena's eyes, searching deeply in her soul. Then his fingers snapped open and Hope collapsed to her knees, choking and hacking.

Xena knelt down and helped Hope back up to her feet.

"What the hell is going on, sis?" Alexander asked. "What is she doing alive? What are you doing with her?"

"Long story," Xena replied. "All I know is that she has been with me for two weeks, so she couldn't have done this!"

Alex fixed his eyes on Hope. They were afire with barely contained hatred.

"I saw her!" he hissed. "I saw her priests, ripping our town to shreds!"

"It wasn't me!" Hope replied.

"Cylissa?" Xena asked.

Alex stopped and shrugged. "She was still alive when I bought it. Whether or not she's still up there, I don't know."

That statement drove home the fact that Xena was speaking to her recently deceased brother.

"Oh gods," Xena whispered.

"Listen to me," Alexander said urgently. "Cylissa is still up there! She's still alive. I know she is!"

"But you-" Xena started.

"Forget about me!" Alexander cut in. "I need you to find her! I can't do anything from here!"

Hope's mind was reeling with the knowledge that her old cult was still active.

"How can they be capable?" she asked herself aloud.

"You tell me," Alex said sharply.

Hope shook her head. She really had no idea as to how the remnants of the cult of Dahok could even be active. She felt the burning in her heart under Alexander's accusing stare.

"It wasn't me," she said, backing away as she shook her head. "It wasn't."

She turned and fled up the passage.

"Hope!" Xena called after her.

Hope pushed through the seemingly endless throng of victims slowly making their way down the passage to Charon's boat. Dull eyes and scarred faces stared at her, unblinking in the crimson light.

Cold, pale hands groped for her. Voices whispered, ghostly in the confined place.

"No!" Hope cried out. "It wasn't me!"

Suddenly, her cries were drowned by the water surrounding her.

She pumped her legs and pulled with her arms, fighting for the surface. The pale light of the day dropped from the murky depths to meet her.

She erupted from the depths in a fountain of water. The air flooded in and out of her burning lungs in a hoarse cry of pain.

She clawed her way to the shore and hauled her body clear of the water, sobbing in despair.

"I swear, Mother!" she cried. "I swear it wasn't me!"

She looked up and could see the shimmering figure of a person, looking down at her.

"Mother," Hope choked. "I swear it wasn't me."

Gabrielle smiled and nodded before she shimmered again, and vanished.

Hope's head dropped into the grass. She breathe din the thick earthy musk and fought her fledgling emotions back down.

As the horror and the despair settled, she was suddenly aware of another emotion, bubbling beneath the surface.

A sense of outrage that she had never known slowly began to assert itself, driving the sadness away, and sharpening her mind.

She pulled herself to her knees.

"Someone is using me," her mind suddenly hypothesized. "Dahok is defeated, never to trouble the world again, but the rumor of his coming could still be a powerful weapon."

"Breathe," she whispered aloud. "You need to think."

She stumbled to her feet and half walked, half crawled back toward their camp.

Gabrielle still lay in the blankets, her eyes closed, her body, completely still and pale.

Hope stopped short when she saw the corpse. She had almost forgotten.

The despair reared its ugly head again, but she fought it back.

Swallowing her sadness, she knelt next to the body and began gently preparing it to travel.

She then found two long branches and lashed them together to form a bier.

As she worked, she spoke to her mother.

"Someone's trying to use me to cause a lot of harm," she said. "They killed your son, too." She paused, feeling the cold outrage again. "They killed my brother." She corrected herself.

With each word, she felt the old coldness reasserting itself. Instead of being bent on the destruction of others, or the conversion of people to her father's ghastly religion, the ice in her veins was focusing on vengeance.

Alexander had been the one to stop Xena from killing her, after the fateful duel with her step father. Granted, there was no love lost between them, but the young man had been her savior. And now, someone had used her past as a guise to eliminate any chance at a future reconciliation.

Yes, vengeance seemed the appropriate course of action.

"I'll take you home, first," Hope said to Gabrielle. "That was the last thing you wanted. And it's the least I can do. Then, I'm going to find the ones responsible for all that death." Her eyes were as cold as a frosty sea. "I'm going to find them, and I'm going to kill them. I'm going to kill them all."


	10. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Hope rested her bloodied fingers on the hard stone cover of her mothers' sarcophagus, her long blonde hair hung in damp strings, and her clothing was covered in a fine layer of grime and stone dust from her efforts.

"There you go, Mother," she sighed. "Right next to your husband, where you deserve to be."

She ran her fingers along the carved lid.

"I know I told you before," she continued. "But I am sorry for all the pain I caused you and your family. I know I can never make up for it, especially now. But I can do my best to make sure no one else ever has to go through what I put you through."

She let a soft, bitter laugh escape her lips. "I don't know how much I can do to set right everything I've done. It's a lot to accomplish, and I don't think I can make a difference, even if I live to be a hundred.

I've never been alone before, Mother," she went on. "I'm not sure how well I'll do out there, on my own. All I can promise is that I'll try."

"Who said you were going to be alone?" A voice broke into her thoughts.

Startled, Hope wheeled around and found Xena standing at the entrance to the chamber.

"Xena," Hope stammered. "I was, I mean, I wanted to,"

Xena stepped around Gabrielle's sarcophagus and let her hands rest on the smooth stone.

"The last thing she wanted – that both of my parents wanted," Xena began. "Was for us to stick together."

Hope's eyes remained frosty. "You don't have to come with me. Chances are you'd be better off. Safer, if I wasn't with you."

"Yeah," Xena nodded. "That's true. What's your point?"

"Xena," Hope whispered. "Alexander saved my life that day. I never got to thank him as I should. I never got to try and make amends. Now, someone is out there, using my name, and Dahok's name, and starting it all over again."

"So let's go find them and stop them," Xena offered.

"That's what I'm going to do," Hope nodded.

"No," Xena said gently. "You're going to go find them and kill them."

"What's the difference," Hope asked. She turned and walked towards the exit. "Stay out of my way, Xena."

Xena sighed. The grief of her other losses was still so near, and yet, she couldn't allow herself to mourn as she should, lest she lose another sibling.

"I guess it was true, mom," Xena said, patting the newly sealed coffin. "The attitude does come from your side of the family."

Xena came back out of the tomb to find Hope tying down various pieces of gear on Gabrielle's horse.

"You know where to start looking?" Xena asked casually.

"I have some ideas," Hope replied.

"Such as?"

Hope climbed astride the horse.

Xena stepped up and grasped the reigns of the horse, looking steadily into Hope's eyes.

"Let go, Xena," Hope ordered.

Xena smiled and looked at into the horses eyes.

"Sappho," she said quietly. "You stay put, understand?"

Then she fixed her eyes on Hope again.

"Feels good, doesn't it," she said knowingly. "Being so angry all the time. It means you don't have to deal with all the other things running through your head."

"Let go, Xena," Hope said icily.

"I don't think so," Xena replied.

Hope jerked the reigns, trying to free them from Xena's grasp. The reigns snapped, Sappho blinked and jerked his head slightly, but did not move.

"Let go!" Hope demanded.

"Since when do you have any rights to anything in my family," Xena replied with ice in her voice. "This is my mother's horse, and now, mine. If you think you can just waltz in here and take it, you've got another thing coming."

Hope dropped to the ground and grasped her staff. She faced Xena and swung the weapon down towards Xena's head.

Xena simply leapt back clear of the blow.

Hope stared at her for a moment, her chest heaving. Then she straightened.

"Fine," she said hoarsely. "I don't need the stupid horse."

She began removing her sparse belongings and slung them over her shoulder.

She turned and stalked off.

Xena stepped quickly forward and tripped the smaller woman from behind, sending her sprawling.

"You aren't going anywhere," she said assuredly. "Not like this."

With a cry, Hope got to her feet, turned and attacked.

Xena shuffled back away from Hope's angry assault, and scooped up a fallen branch, blocking a vicious sweep of the staff.

The icy detachment that had been so much a part of Hope's persona seemed to vanish.

Xena let her sister expend her fury for a few more exchanges before she slipped in, slapping the staff out of Hope's hands and sweeping her legs out from under her.

Hope went down with a thud. Before she could get back to her feet, Xena had her by the front of the tunic, lifting her bodily from the ground and driving her back against the rocky side of the hill.

"Don't you think I want the same thing you do?" She cried in fury. "Alex was my brother, long before you came into the picture, and Gabrielle was my friend long before you were even born!"

Hope struggled against Xena's grip, but she was only slammed into the rocks a second time for her efforts.

"I know what it feels like to lose everything!" she screamed. "I know how it burns inside! I know the things it makes you want to do!"

Hope flailed wildly, trying to break free, but Xena held her fast. "I know." She said more calmly. "I know because I did it."

Hope screamed and suddenly Xena was flung away, landing several yards from the enraged young woman. At the same time there was a deep rumbling from within the tomb. A cloud of dust belched forth, obscuring Xena's vision.

When it settled, Xena saw Hope standing near the entrance, covered in a fine layer of dust, her eyes wide in amazement, looking down at her hands.

Xena picked herself up and dusted herself off. "Well, that was impressive."

Hope looked at her, and then back at the opening of the tomb.

"I," Hope stammered. Then she winced in pain. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to."

Xena stood.

"It's alright," She said gently. "At least I know what Dad meant when he told you to watch your temper."

Hope sat down and fixed her eyes at the ground before her feet.

"All these emotions," she said in a defeated voice. "I can't keep them under control. It's like this weight on my chest. It keeps pushing, and pushing, until I feel like I can't breathe. And then it just,"

"Explodes," Xena finished.

Hope nodded. "It's just that. I never really knew…I mean.."

"I understand," Xena said as she got to her feet.

Silence settled cold over the room as Xena fell silent, the beer in her hand, long forgotten.

She looked at David, absently turning the glass on the bar beside him.

Her best friend for over two millennia stood next to him, her eyes narrowing with suspicion as the memories were reawakened in her mind.

A smile began playing at David's lips, though he didn't look up at the two women.

Xena's eyes narrowed. "The thing I don't understand is why you saved her, and then proceeded to put her through all that? From what she described, it was like torture."

"Sounds like it," David nodded.

Gabrielle looked at David carefully. "There's something you aren't telling us."

"Perhaps," David replied. He reached over the bar and drew out a cigar from a nearby paperboard box and lit it.

"Wait a second," Xena said, rising. "You said that you entered that prison and put Hope in precisely the right place to survive the building collapse, right?"

David nodded. "Yup."

"And you did lead her in the right direction to find someone to help her," Gabrielle added. "This man you described. Ian."

Again, David nodded. "Uh huh."

"Then all the other stuff?"

David puffed on the cigar a few times, his eyes studying the two women before him thoughtfully.

"I don't know anything about all that." He finally said. He pointed at Xena. "You'll note that I stopped talking, right after Hope left Ian and then you picked up the tale from there."

"Yeah," Xena nodded. "You stopped, so I figured that you were looking for what happened from our point of view?"

"Correct." David smiled.

"So you did want it from our point of view." Gabrielle stammered. "You wanted to hear it from us because you wanted to be sure that we were, um, are, who we claimed."

David smiled softly and looked into Gabrielle's eyes. "I knew that the second I looked here." He pointed at her eyes. "All that other stuff that you two went through with Hope and my little dreamscape training sessions, well?" He shrugged. "This is the first I've heard about it."

"That's impossible!" Xena said sharply.

"You came to her shortly after she left Ian to find us!" Gabrielle added.

David sighed and then, he looked up at them and his entire manner seemed to shift. His posture was more bent, less proud, as if he were weary. His clear eyes dulled a bit and when he spoke, his voice was deeper, and laced with a thick Scottish accent.

"Old Ian Macgregor of the Wolf's Head Dragoons, born in Glasgow in fourteen thirty seven." He said.

"Sorry to spoil your party, lassie," He said to Gabrielle. "But Old Ian is merely a character that I created for a Renaissance Faire I once worked at. Of course, I had to make him look different from me. I knew that your lovely daughter would be more inclined to open up to a stranger, than to the man she killed."

Gabrielle and Xena's mouths both fell open in shock.

"Let me see," David continued in that thick voice. "He was a dirty bastard, with long graying hair and a thick, bushy gray beard. He took to sitting at the fire during the night and, though I haven't been told officially, stews a wicked rabbit for an evening meal?"

He smiled and took another puff on the cigar as he brought the eerie transformation to a halt.

"Yes," Gabrielle managed to stammer.

"That was me." David acknowledged. "Everything after Hope left Ian's cabin is all new to me. I never had anything to do with that."

He paused for a moment and then quickly added. "Except for when Hope brought you into my dreamscape and I tried to delay you from interfering with your mom. That was me as well."

"And all those lessons?" Xena asked. "The skills she learned when she went through all that?"

David shook his head. "It was never part of my plan to teach her how to fight. That was the last thing on my mind. I didn't know what her intentions really were. I didn't point her in your direction until I was reasonably certain that she was sincere, but even then, I didn't give her anything to make her a threat to you."

"But David," Gabrielle said. "All the things she described to us, when she was in those dreamscapes were, well, they were things that only you would have known about. They were all things from this time?"

"The whole Dagobah and Matrix thing?" David replied. "Yeah, well, you got me there. Still, Star Wars was a popular series and the Matrix was a popular flick too." He shrugged.

They were all silent for a long moment.

"You know," David mused, rolling his cigar absently between two fingers. "Maybe we're approaching this from the wrong angle?"

"What do you mean?" Gabrielle asked.

"We're focusing on the "why's"," David added. "Why did she see what she saw? Why were the dreamscapes the way they were? Why? Why? Why?"

"Okay?" Gabrielle asked.

"Let's take it from the beginning," David continued. "First thing that happens is Hope somehow manages to contact the three of us, at the same time, and get all of us together tonight."

"We know that," Xena replied. "She appeared to me, and Gabrielle in a dream, and she materialized in your house."

Gabrielle looked at David and felt a shiver of anticipation run up her spine.

"I know that look, David," she said with a smile. "You're scheming again."

"Yes I am," David nodded. "This is the part of a mystery I really enjoy."

"Which part?" Xena asked.

"Trying to think like the person on the other side of the fence," David answered. He leaned forward and took a sip of his whiskey. "Okay, let's go through the whole thing again, but this time, I want to try and se it from the other perspective."

David looked at Gabrielle. "You'll have the easiest time with this little exercise, honey. You actually experienced the call from Hope's perspective."

It was a strange roll reversal as they each relived the experience of their dreams. David asked many questions, trying to keep them in the frame of mind of the person sending the call. In the end, when they all fell silent again, David sat perfectly still, his eyes focused inward in thought, the cigar forgotten between his fingers.

He came out of his introspection and looked at Xena. She had the same, calculating, thoughtful look in her eyes.

"Okay," He said with a wry smile. "Out with it?"

"There were three different types of messages," Xena said. She looked at Gabrielle. "You actually saw things through her eyes, but Dad, er David and I, saw things differently."

David smiled. It was a testament to how wrapped up in the situation Xena had become for her to refer to him as her father.

Gabrielle smiled. "That's an interesting twist."

Xena shrugged.

"And the messages were different types of messages," David continued. He pointed to each of them in turn. "You were actually drawn into her situation, seeing everything from her point of view. Xena, your message was a memory, drawn up from a previous incarnation, but because you had no access to the experiences of your previous life, you thought it was Gabrielle, I mean Angelica, that you were pounding."

"And you actually saw her, in your house, as some sort of projection," Gabrielle concluded. "But you thought it was me as well."

David nodded. "Three different types of messages to three different people all at the same time."

"Impressive," Xena said. "To do all that, at the same time, considering the condition she was in?"

"And the more I think about it," David nodded. "The less I believe it."

Both women looked at him questioningly.

"David, we all experienced these things," Gabrielle said.

"Oh, I'm not questioning that it was done," David said, and then his eyes stayed fixed on his wife for a long moment, and slowly, a look of dawning began to appear on his face.

"Son of a bitch," he sighed. Then he chuckled in appreciation. "Slick. Real, real slick."

"What?" Xena asked.

"Here I am sitting down with my wife and my daughter from a previous life, and it's so familiar to me, that I didn't even catch it until this moment." David replied.

"When I stop and think about it, there was no way that Hope could have contacted one of us, let alone all three. Not without help, anyway."

"But you said that she could have managed it." Gabrielle countered. "You said that sometimes it can happen."

"Given certain circumstances," David agreed. "But I was forgetting what I did to her the last time we faced off."

"Why?" Xena asked, ignoring the chill of that memory as it slid up her spine.

"Because I basically shorted out her ability to do anything." David replied. "I zapped her with every ounce of energy I had. Everything."

"So, she learned how to do it again, or," Gabrielle began, but she stopped when David shook his head.

"Think of it as a radio without a power source or an antenna," he said. "Even if you have the ability to tune in, you have nothing to receive the signal. That was what I did to her. I pulled her receiver and switched off the radio. The only think working would be the clock."

"And that was what you did to her," Xena nodded.

David nodded. "The only way she could have done anything is if someone else had helped her." He chuckled again. "Which means I just got played like a damned fiddle."

"Why do you say that?" Gabrielle asked.

"Remember what I said about the spell I wrote?" David explained. "I said it was a seeking spell, remember?"

"Right," Gabrielle nodded. "You said it was a seeking spell, not a summoning."

"Exactly," David stood up and began pacing. "I set it up so that I could travel to the source of the transmission, for lack of a better word. It was supposed to be a one person trip. Me and me alone, jumping lines back to wherever and whenever the signal came."

"I understand." Xena nodded. "But you said yourself that the little flash of memory I had when I was a kid, back then, was enough for me to create a link and come forward to now."

"Absolutely," David replied. "For you. Not for your mom, uh Angelica, I mean, Gabrielle. Shit, this is going to drive me nuts."

The women smiled.

David gestured to Xena and continued. "You had a link to this time, and you had enough previous knowledge in the arts of Shamanism to attempt to travel that link to the present, and I'll go so far as to say that you could also, if given time to set things up properly, bring someone back here with you."

"Thanks," Xena replied with a hint of sarcasm.

"My point is this," David continued. "You didn't make any preparations in advance. And, no offense, but you wouldn't have had the energy or the knowledge to overcome my spell without disrupting it enough to bring me back here and hit the brakes."

Xena felt a touch offended by that remark. "What makes you think so?"

David smiled. "How much shamanism have you practiced since you became a cop in this life, kiddo? You went out of your way to give me shit about my 'going pagan' whenever you could. You telling me that you're actually a High Priestess of the fourth magnitude, and you've been pulling the wool over my eyes for the last year?"

"Point taken," Xena nodded.

"Now," David continued. "Just so we understand what all was involved here. On my best day, with luck flowing out my ears, I might have been able to bring one of you forward without making you loony in the process. Might."

"David?" Gabrielle asked suddenly. "I have a question. It may or may not have anything to do with this, but, why didn't you say goodbye to Xena before we left on Charon's boat?"

"What?" David asked.

"When you brought me to Charon's boat, after, you know?" Gabrielle said. "I would have expected you to talk to Xena before we left."

"Honey," David said. "You lost me at the part about the boat."

Both women frowned at that statement.

"David," Xena said slowly. "I saw you lead Gabrielle onto Charon's boat. It was right after Hope and I left Ian."

"Hope and you left me," David countered. "I already told you. I was Ian. Those were the only times I was involved. After I helped her get out of the prison, while she healed, and when the two of you showed up in that dreamscape. Believe me, that was all I could handle. Now, what's all this about Charon's boat?"

Quickly, Xena recounted the tale Hope had told her about David being there to take Gabrielle to the other side when her time came.

David listened and was silent for a long time afterwards.

"And don't forget," Gabrielle added. "Xena, Alexander and I saw you standing above the tomb, during your funeral. We knew you could come back."

"Problem is," David countered. "I showed up at my funeral on my way back to find you after you got home. It was a glitch in my navigating the vortex that put me there to begin with. I dipped into my own future, so to speak."

"On your way into the past," Gabrielle added.

"In a life I supposedly never had." David finished with a grin. "Anyone dizzy yet?"

"I have a headache," Xena said, rubbing her eyes. "So, what do we know?"

"Several things," David smiled. "We know that my life and family in the past were real, because you're sitting here now, with me, and you remember it. We know that someone, or something, manipulated things to make me think my life then was a mind freak brought on by a four day coma.

We can be reasonably certain that the same entity manipulated events after I saved Hope, giving her some of the gifts she had possessed before I pulled her plug. And we know that the sendings we all received, and the spells that I used to trace them were tampered with while we were in circle."

"Okay," Xena ticked off her fingers. "Someone else started training Hope after you were done. Someone else got inside her head and helped awaken her conscience, and someone else was Charon's dock, escorting you to the Elysian Fields when you finally died." The last was directed at Gabrielle.

"So?" Gabrielle asked. "Who is this mysterious someone? And what does he or she want with Hope?"

"Always assuming Hope was the subject of all this attention to begin with," David finished.

He smiled. "We're looking at this as if Hope was the target. What if Hope was the bait to bring us out into the open and set up things for here and now? What if the two of you are the reason?"

"Still too many questions," Xena shrugged. "And not enough facts to point to an individual."

"Well," Gabrielle asked. "Perhaps the answers lay in what happened afterward? After you and Hope had your little fight outside the tomb."

"Yeah," David nodded. "What did happen after the two of you calmed down?"

Xena paused, her beer nearly to her lips. She took a drink, set the beer down and smiled.

"Quite a bit, actually."

END


End file.
